


Bound To You

by TheRomanticist02



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Breathplay, Consensual Kink, Edgeplay, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Multi, Safe Sane and Consensual, Safewords, Sensation Play, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2019-11-07 02:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRomanticist02/pseuds/TheRomanticist02
Summary: “One day, you'll meet Prince Charming. He'll see the entire galaxy in your eyes. His sun will rise and set in your eyes.”“How will I know if he's the one, Mama? My Prince Charming?”“His gaze alone will touch your soul and set it on fire.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!!! Look, I'mma be honest here. I'm nervous for this story--a new story in general because I've been so busy with The Royal's Consort and writing routinely for it and now I have to start something completely new. 
> 
> Technically, I am supposed to be posting a story I wrote two excerpts for called 'Light of my life' available in my Rolleigns Drabbles. I wrote the first chapter but was like nope, too dark. Especially with what's happening with The Royal's Consort. 
> 
> This is a BDSM story too though, like that one was going to be. Because I love BDSM, I love the whole concept of the lifestyle. I love how it's so much more than sex. But this story will obviously have explicit and erotic sex scenes and shit like that. If it's too much for you, please kindly stay away. 
> 
> And thank you so much for reading.

“Now remember what I said about the house rules. You have a smart mouth, Seth, I know that’s who you are. But this is very different from your college frat parties and those childish house parties that you go to with Bayley. This—”

“Now who’s being a smart mouth?” Seth interrupts, rolling his eyes so hard at Dean. Not that Dean can actually see him. His best friend (after Bayley, but Dean doesn’t need to know that) is too busy trying to make sure that his latex pants—that fit on him like second skin—are showing his ass off enough.

Dean looks over his shoulder, his glare has no effect whatsoever on Seth, “It’s not being a smart mouth if it’s the truth. Elysium is a very… _mature_ club. It caters for… _ripened_ , open-minded adults. And trust me when I say that they don’t take too kindly to kink or body shaming—or shaming in general. You can even get kicked out of the club.”

“And who said anything about shaming?”

“I’m just saying, you’re going to see a lot weird shit in there. People who aren’t exactly shy—and flaunt their sexuality freely. Don’t gawk or do that judgmental thing you do with your eyes. You’ll find yourself on your ass outside the club...and then you can kiss your interview with Master Roman goodbye. He’s very strict about a lot of things. There’s a reason that Elysium’s the best BDSM club in the whole of Florida. So control yourself, please.”

Another eye roll from Seth. Maybe not fully justifiable this time. But Dean has been lecturing him on BDSM etiquette since this morning. He’s a member of the private establishment, a huge accomplishment according to him. Attaining membership at Elysium is very hard apparently. Dean likens it to taking your final exams. Or having your first serious interview, in an intimidating tall building, with an intimidating tough panel.

“I promise I’ll behave, daddy.”

That draws out the reaction that Seth was hoping for. Dean cackles like a buffoon, “Don’t say that to any of the Doms. You’ll get the shit fucked out of you—literally.”

Ew. Nope, not happening.

“I’m not about that kinky shit, Dean. If they touch me…” Seth warns.

“Relax, I’m just messing with you. We talked rules, remember? No one’s allowed to touch you unless you give them permission to. If they fail to respect your wishes, the Dungeon Monitors are available. They always wear black bibs with the words ‘DM’ on them. But that’s never happened before, since I’ve been at the club, it’s never happened. We all respect each other.”

Seth nods, releasing an exasperated sigh. “Damn Bayley for doing this to me!”

“Oh come on, she has an assignment to finish. You know she’d do this whole thing herself if she weren’t desperate—it’s for her channel after all.”

The channel that Dean is talking about is Bayley’s YouTube channel. She started it a year ago, and it’s amazing how quickly it has grown in just under a year. His best friend’s chasing 2 million subscribers, and she isn’t far from reaching her goal. She explores and amplifies unconventional creative voices. Bayley represents the quirky, the unheard of—her channel’s quickly become a favorite, and a home to those who feel they are too different for the world—or misunderstood.  

And Seth enjoys helping her, he does. But only behind the scenes. He’s not much of a people person. A fact that surprises a lot of people because he’s generally a loud person but that’s only to his closest friends. He rarely speaks much around people he doesn’t know. And this whole interview might turn out disastrous—either from him not saying nothing at all or being too opinionated.

But Bayley has an assignment that’s due on Monday. She’s not even halfway done with it, and will probably spend the rest of the weekend finalizing it. So a very reluctant Seth has to fill in for her. Because they’re ‘best friends’ and he has to fulfill his ‘best friend duties’ otherwise their whole ‘we’re the bestest of best friends’ thing is pointless. Her emotional blackmail always defeats him, always.

“Why don’t you put on some skinny jeans? I’m pretty sure it’s considered a crime to wear those horrendous pants.”

Dean breathes out an unperturbed snort. “Who died and made you the fashion police?”

“I’m just saying. Those pants are hideous. I can lend you my black jeans—the ones that make all the boys on campus drool. You’re a bit bigger than me so they’ll hug you tighter, they’ll do wonders for that ass you’re so eager to show off.”

“We’d have to go back all the way to your flat. We have to be at the club by 08:00 sharp. And we’re making a thirty minute drive.”

Dean makes a valid point, it’s ten minutes after seven now. And it takes ten minutes to reach his shared flat with Bayley. Sure, they might make it to the club on time if they hurry but traffic tends to be a bitch on Fridays. Especially in the evenings. It’s more likely than not that they’d arrive late. “Fine…” it’s drawn out, Seth can’t help the way he narrows his gaze on the latex pants. They are his enemy.

“Great. Come help me fix my hair.”

“I think it’s fine the way it is,” reluctantly lifting off the bed, Seth goes to join Dean. “You can’t do much with it, Dean.” He runs his fingers through auburn velvet, it’s prickly—much too short for any specific hairdo. “You’re beautiful the way you are.”

“Thank you.” They make eye contact on the mirror. Dean has a wary smile on his face. Despite how loud he is, Dean isn’t always the most confident of boys. Seth tries to reassure him as much as he can. But Dean has gotten a bit more confident, since he joined this BDSM thing. Seth has seen hidden facets of him that he hadn’t ever seen before. “Are you ready to leave?”

Seth threads his hand through his hair, “Let _me_ fix my hair real quick.” He decided against tying it so it’s flowing today. A wild mane of curls framing his perfect pace. “Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go watch some live porn.”

Dean snorts, “Just don’t get a boner.” He grabs his rucksack and keys, following Seth to the front door. “Master Roman’s scenes can be _very arousing._ He’s been known to cause puddles.”

“Maybe I should’ve googled him a little—”

“Hold that thought, I gotta get the car. I’ll meet you up front?”

“Sure,” Seth passes the night guard at the foyer. He tips his head in greeting, going to wait for Dean’s rusty truck outside. The battered metal thing appears out of nowhere, looking out of place in this lively neighborhood. The car is on the verge of death, seriously, and they’ll be lucky if they make it to their location unscathed and on time. “Maybe I should’ve borrowed Bayley’s car.”

“What’s wrong with Lady Diana?”

Yes, _yellow_ rusty has a name. An insult to such a beautiful name, really. “It’s, I mean _she—_ ” Seth corrects himself at the look on Dean’s face. “She has no life left in her, Deano. Why don’t you—”

“No! I know what you were going to say and hell no, Lady Diana ain’t going nowhere. She’s my precious baby, always so reliable. So forget it.”

Seth rolls his eyes. “Fine…so like I was saying, maybe I should’ve googled this guy. Or his club, at least. I saw the comments on Bayley’s YouTube when she announced that she managed to secure an interview with him. This guy’s very popular amongst the boys and girls.”

A few things that Seth does know about this ‘Master Roman’ are that he’s a business magnate who is disgustingly rich. The man, of Samoan descent, has managed to acquire so much wealth at the young age of thirty-one. His first business was a small trading firm that specialized in concrete. And he has since expanded into numerous sectors including banking, agriculture, petroleum, telecommunications and more. All this information had been given to him by Bayley. She googled him after he caught her eye on a business magazine at the school library.

Seth remembers it like it was yesterday.

It was in actuality a little over three months ago. She came into his room and threw herself on his bed, murmuring dreamily, “I just met the most perfect, most gorgeous, most sexy, most ethereal man on earth.”

Seth had initially been confused which then quickly morphed into excitement and then finally disappointment when he found out that she was referring to the magazine cover of some man whose beauty caught her eye as she’d been making an exit at the library.

“He’s a Dominant,” she’d proceeded to say, weird dazed expression on her face. “I googled him, the interview. The interviewer asked him about his kink club, he told her he owns it with another Dominant—a Mistress Nikki. And get this, it’s the same club that Dean told us about a few months ago! I’m gonna see if he can set up an interview for me. I’d like to get his insight on the BDSM lifestyle.”

Seth hadn’t known what to say. Sure, he’s aware of kink and fetish clubs but they’ve also never really crossed his mind. For him sex is sex and sometimes he experiments but BDSM has just...he doesn’t even know about in detail. His ideas about the lifestyle are very vague.

The interview has been set for midday tomorrow. She’d been fortunate enough to get it because the ‘enigmatic Dominant’ is in Miami for the weekend. He’s having a scene at his club tonight. Something that Dean has been going insane about it for the past three weeks. It’s a rare occurrence ( _v_ _ery rare_ according to Dean) for Master Roman to host a scene. And this one he’s having tonight, it’s been six months in the making.

Not everyone is eligible to attend his scenes. Dean told him that they’re very intimate, usually not allowing more than twenty people to observe. Usually, the scenes are meant for the new Dominants and subs—to give them an idea on what goes on in a scene. Dean and himself got invited through Mistress Nikki—she’s Dean’s Dom.

“I don’t blame them. We’re all part of the Ro Daddy-Ho Squad. That’s what we call each other at the club. It’s totally okay to be a hoe for him. So what are they saying? In the comments?” Dean’s giggling like a teenager discussing their crush.

“Um, let me see…a few provocative things,” Seth can’t contain his laugh too. He grabs his phone, going to Bayley’s channel. “Let me find a few, there’s so many of them. Uh, here we go, so this one—her name’s Sativa—she says here, ‘I’d let that man wreck my vagina, tbh. And then there’s this one—Jason Curry—all he says is ‘We want Daddy!’ Katy says, ‘I’m already having so many unholy thoughts.’ And this one, erhm, Zikhona—I don’t know how to pronounce her name—she’s saying her panties are already soaking wet.” Seth’s laughs get louder. Do these people have no shame?

“I mean he does make it pour a lot in between our thighs. You’ll see what I’m talking about.” Dean winks mischievously.    

Seth rolls his eyes, “There’s plenty of hot guys. I don’t get what’s so special about this guy. Bayley says in another interview, they called him ‘The Sensualist.’ All this for one man?”

“He’s not just a man, he’s a _gentleman_ —there’s a difference. A man is self-entitled and demands a lot—respect, love, whatever. He gives orders. A gentleman prefers to _earn—_ his respect, your devotion. A gentleman inspires. And that’s what makes a gentleman the most attractive kind of man.”

“If you say so,” there’s nothing else Seth can say. He’s not sold on this Dom guy even the slightest bit. Dean’s fading truck can, at least, play the radio. Seth turns it on, settling on any station. Country music blasts the rusty car, and Dean gets a lopsided grin but says nothing. “So when did you join this club again?”

“Eight months ago—best decision of my life.”

Dean always says that. Seth doesn’t get it but it always brings a discreet smile on his face. He’s never seen Dean like this before. Granted he’s only known the other boy for just under two years but still. This Dean is more confident, more sexier than the previous Dean. He’s even changed his hideous wardrobe for new, trendier clothing. He just didn’t get the memo on what a fashion faux pas it is to be seen wearing fucking latex in public though.

“I still don’t get how you afforded to pay for the membership. It’s ridiculously expensive. “

“I paid half, the rest is a scholarship, courtesy of Mistress Nikki. She admires my eagerness to learning more about the lifestyle.”

“Right…Mistress Nikki. I still don’t get how your relationship works with her.”

That causes Dean to roll his eyes, “It’s not rocket science. I play with her sometimes—I’m her favorite submissive. But it’s not exclusive or anything so if Master Roman ever looks my way…” Dean allows his expression to finish the rest of his statement. He waggles his brows suggestively, moaning loudly in the car.

“You’re disgusting.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“An immature brat.”

“Brat? Why, that’s such a compliment. It’s all part of the fun, to keep them on their toes.”

“Who?”

“The Dominants. Look, there’s the building.” Dean points outside the window.

Seth releases a small nervous breath. He’s anxious all of a sudden, his stomach in knots. He looks out the window to where Dean’s pointing and…whoa!

_It’s beautiful._

Seth doesn’t know if he’d been expecting the club to be a mediocre, shady and stark building that would resemble an ugly Betty in a world full of beauty. But it’s the opposite. Yes, the building stands out. In a world of beauty, in this beautiful neighborhood, it still stands out because there’s something so riveting, something so hedonically appealing about it.

The building, low-rise, can’t have more than four levels. It’s contemporary in it’s design, palatial, painted a soft, barely there grey color. But there so many windows too, beautiful tall windows. They tease the life going inside the building. At the front is a small queue lining the sliding glass doors. About four insanely big men occupy either side of the doors, allowing everyone inside.

“Wow.”

“You like it?” Dean smiles, he passes the long queue. They’re going to the parking area.

“It’s impressive.” Seth admits. Even the parking area is impressive, it’s two blocks away from the club. The parking area has three levels, and Seth has to bite his lips to keep from gasping in awe. Clearly this club is home to some filthy rich bastards. He spots expensive sports cars, luxurious SUVs.

“Come on, let’s go.”

And then there’s Dean…with rusty. “You’re a real asshole, allowing me to be seen leaving this rusty metal when you knew the kind of cars that occupy this place. Shame on you…” he whispers furiously, shying away from the curious eye of a very, _very_ attractive tall man with the most beautiful, penetrating pale blue eyes he’s ever seen.

Even with the distance, Seth can tell that the man’s rich. If his expensive looking tailored suit gives nothing away then that sparkling diamond watch adorning his wrist sure does. The man’s gaze leaves him, thankfully, as the man goes to the other side of his Porsche. He opens the door, one arm behind his back, and the other one held out to whoever is inside the car. There’s something intense about the way he’s eyeing whoever’s in the car.

“That’s Master Randy,” Dean says, catching his gaze. Seth can’t help blushing a bit, he’s just been caught gawking at some…fine as hell hunk. “And that’s his slave Xavier.” Dean continues when a much shorter man with shimmering brown skin emerges. His lustrous curly hair is tied into a neat bun, accentuating his radiant face.

Seth gawks as he takes in this Xavier’s outfit. If he can call it that. He’s pretty sure what the short man’s wearing qualifies as underwear. Not just any underwear—skimpy underwear. It’s made of latex (maybe these people have a latex fetish or something) and proudly show off his ass cheeks. He’s also wearing very heavy looking knee-high black platform boots. And he has a sparkling collar—made of complete diamonds—beautifying his neck.

And Seth will admit—this is the weirdest but most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

He tries to come off as nonchalant as possible as Master and slave get closer. The tall man’s left arm firmly enwraps the small man’s waist. “Gentlemen…” there’s no emotion on his face—he’s completely impassive but his tone sounds polite.

“Master, I hope you’re well.” Seth’s gaze snaps to Dean—he sounds so respectful. Hell, his voice has grown softer for some reason and he isn’t meeting the tall man’s gaze.

Who is this and what’s happened to his best friend?

Seth stifles a laugh, discreetly meeting Xavier’s warm browns. They are dancing in amusement, but his expression is as impassive as his Master’s. Maybe you’re not allowed to reveal emotion in front of the Doms? Seth doesn’t remember Dean giving him that rule. But now that he’s thinking back to the rules, he does remember Dean telling him to never look a Dominant in the eye unless given permission to.

“I am well, thank for asking Dean. And who might this be?” penetrating blue eyes focus on him, and Seth has to look down this time— intimidated. Damn this man…

“Oh, this is Seth, Master. Bayley, his friend, she was invited to interview Master Roman tomorrow. She can’t make it so Seth is filling in for her.”

“You may look at me.” Seth obeys immediately—he’s not sure why he’d spent so long staring at his worn-out Converse anyway. But this man is a bit intimidating. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Seth.”

Seth accepts the offered hand—Master Randy’s grip is firm, almost painful, despite how soft his hand is. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, um…” is he supposed to say Master too, like Dean? Seth has no idea, so he opts for, “Sir,” instead.

“Very good.” Master Randy hums appreciatively. Is he impressed? “This is Xavier, my slave. Pet, you may greet these gentlemen.”

Xavier’s almond eyes sparkle exquisitely, “May I hug Dean, Master?” at his Master’s nod of approval, Xavier hugs Dean tightly. “Hey you, I’ve missed you so much.”

“School, you know how it is.”

“Not really, but I understand.” When Xavier gives him his attention, there’s a bright smile stretching his lips. “Hey Seth, nice to meet you.” the boy waves kindly, talking as if they’ve known each other for decades.

“Likewise.” He’s thankful that Xavier doesn’t try to hug him. He doesn’t want to freak out in such a public place—nor does he want to look like a weirdo in front of these people.

“Master, would it be possible for me to hang out with Dean?”

“If Dean agrees, Pet. And also, if Dean promises to look after you.”

What is he, a kid?

“I promise,” Dean answers while Seth suppresses a snort. These two are definitely weird to him but he’s keeping his mouth shut. Dean’s lecture is still fresh in his mind.

“Very good, Dean. I trust you, I trust you with Xavier. He’s not allowed to consume alcohol—if I detect even a hint of it on his breath then he will not be the only one facing punishment.”

Seth witnesses Dean gulp, the color draining from him a little. “Y-Yes, M-Master.”

“Xavier, wear your coat. You’re free to take it off inside the club. You have the keys to the playroom, correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Excellent. Go on with Dean and his friend. I’ll fetch you just before Roman’s scene.” Xavier is pecked on his forehead, it seems to last forever before Master Randy finally releases Xavier. But not before groping the crap out of his buttocks.

The streets are alight with excitement as they journey on to Elysium. The BDSM club is even more impressive up close. The word ‘Elysium’ is written prudently above it’s entrance glass doors, in an incandescent, burgundy color that is strangely intimate. Again Seth doesn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it definitely wasn’t this. Ignoring the small ruckus of excited patrons—who look like something straight out of a fetish movie, with their leather and latex and corsets and weird underwear—he follows behind Xavier and Dean who tell him that they’re using the back entrance.

Red.

It seems to be Elysium’s specific theme. The lobby—that is the epitome of elegance, with it’s high ceilings and glass chandeliers—is frighteningly large, so spacious. It’s walls are covered in complete glass. Seth thinks there’s a mysteriousness to his reflection in the red light. He’s a fluorescent creature. They approach the receptionist’s hefty, marble desk. It’s so large—a few lengths short of being a boardroom desk.

The young man at the desk is devastatingly beautiful, with his shimmering blond hair falling perfectly around him. His tan skin shimmers beneath the fluorescent red beams of light. He’s in latex too (surprise, surprise) and looks like he’s wearing a bit of lip gloss. Seth notices that he also has a collar on—like Xavier.

“Tyler, this is Seth, Bayley’s friend—the girl who runs that YouTube channel: DIFFERENT. He’s filling in for her.” Dean explains to the beautiful man.  

“Of course, does he know about the NDA form?” Tyler arches an eyebrow, looking at him.

“I do,” Seth is grateful that his voice comes out steady at least. He’s not going to allowing these people with their kink weirdness to intimidate him. He did it with Xavier’s man, he’s not going to allow it with this twink in front of him. He squares his shoulders, maintaining the eye contact.

“Okay. I’ll give you the form to fill out, on the last page you’ll find Elysium’s house rules. Please read them carefully, I’ll be glad to assist anywhere you need clarification. You can occupy any of the seats over there.”

Seth sashays to the area of meticulously lined up burgundy leather chairs. Dean and Xavier don’t join him, they’re too busy blabbing with the model wannabe upfront. Seth decides he doesn’t care. He fills in the form without reading it. Who’s he going to tell about a bunch of orgy engaging, sex weirdos anyway?

“All done.” He slaps the NDA form softly on pretty boy’s desk.

“Okay, may I see your ID, please?”

Seth rolls his eyes, but takes out his ID card nonetheless. Never mind the fact that it was already checked by two huge bouncers at the door. “I’ll take the white bracelet.” He tells pretty boy who looks up at him in interest. “Dean already explained it to me, the uh, bracelets. Black—that means other people can interact with you. And white means no interaction whatsoever. I’ll take the white, I’m not here for…the other things.”

“Alright,” Tyler wraps the bracelet around his wrist. “Is it too tight?”

“It’s fine.”

“Great, you’re good to go. You’re only nineteen years old so you’re not allowed any alcohol. We do serve Virgin drinks—you’ll ask the bartenders.”

Seth’s cheeks heat up—he’s not sure why he’s embarrassed at the moment. “Thanks…”

Heady, seductive, magnetizing— _sensual power._ Those are Seth’s thoughts immediately he finds himself inside the startlingly large club. _Something_ is flickering in the air. The atmosphere has shifted somehow—and Seth can’t really explain it but there’s a difference. You can feel it in the air—an odd surge of this _energy_ that he is struggling to find the words for. But it’s intoxicating, a bit nerve wrecking too, and he has to release a small breath.

Red beams of light illuminate the inside of the club too, although this time—the one part of the club, where the dancefloor is, flashes with gold and red laser beams. The other side of the club has the bar area—it’s crowded. Their bar area is…interesting to say the least. Naked sculptures form part of the walls—all in some very provocative poses.

There’s a more intimate part of the club, a distance away from some stools and tables. Solid, comfortable looking burgundy leather couches occupy that area. It works strangely well next to a revolving staircase that leads to the second level. There’s also the option of an elevator—that’s completely transparent, allowing you to see the inside. Polished mahogany square tables have been skillfully set up on each row of the couches to give it an intimate feel. And as if the area couldn’t be intimate enough, lanterns emitting a warm ambient glow occupy each and every table.

Seth is…speechless.  

“Hey, do you mind staying with Xavier for a bit? I gotta go change.” Dean’s voice is hot and unwelcome in his ear, it breaks his daze.

“No, go ahead!” He returns the favor, the music playing in the club is too loud anyway.

Seth watches Dean disappear in the direction of the elevator. His gaze briefly flickers to the dancefloor filled with gyrating, writhing bodies dressed in catsuits and see-through skirts and dresses. Some of these people are wearing jockstraps and booty shorts with collars similar to the one Xavier is wearing. But they’re still not as elegant as Xavier’s. There are people wearing harnesses and fishnet clothing. It’s all a different, weird world.

“How about we sit over there?” Xavier points to where the stools are. Seth would rather they sat at the couches but he nods. “Should I get you anything to drink?”

“Whatever you’re getting,” Seth replies absently. He knows it’s going to be nonalcoholic anyway.

“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With Xavier gone, Seth discreetly scans more of his surroundings—he doesn’t want to be caught staring or ‘gawking’ as Dean had put it. His eyes flicker to the plethora of grinding bodies, and then they scan the second level. He can see what he thinks is a throne room— it’s humungous. A large, white majestic chair occupies the room—right at the front. But the room’s empty. Again his eyes travel, widening this time as they land on a man who’s receiving a blowjob at the couches  

The man’s huge, muscle stacked upon muscle, tall with long dark hair. His bliss shows so clearly on his face and…wait a minute. “Hey, I’m back!”

“Ew, what are you wearing?” Dean is wearing nothing but black latex jockstraps. Seth has to hold back a giggle, he never thought he’d see the day. “Easy access for the Mistress?” he snickers.

“You could say that,” Dean chuckles. “Where’s Xavier?”

“Getting our drinks.” Seth points to the bar area. “Dean, why is—shit, I forgot his name. That man’s getting a fucking blowjob in the open!” it’s a bit unnerving to be honest.

“Oh, Master Drew,” Dean carries on as if this is something he sees on a daily basis. He probably does. “This is a kink club—I told you that weird shit happens here.”

Seth can't help it, he breaks out into loud guffaws. Heavy, ugly tears falling down his cheeks. _Master Drew?_ He laughs again, clutching his ribcage. “Wait…wait, he’s a _Dom_ too?”

Dean is frowning at him, “He's a Top. But he didn’t start as that. Everyone who joins the club starts as a submissive. Even if you’re leaning more to towards the D-type spectrum. You still have to go through submissive training for at least a month. Master Roman wants them to realize the strength that goes into making yourself vulnerable. And to make them realize how privileged they are to be entrusted with that kind of power by the submissive. He wants them to be in their shoes.”

“I never thought of it like that—well, I don’t think about it at all. But it’s great, what he’s doing. Maybe this Master of yours deserves the praise after all.”

“He does,” Seth rolls his eyes—if Dean gets his gaga eyes again… “How do you know Master Drew anyway?”

Seth chuckles, “We fucked…and then I waited for him to fall asleep before escaping with half his groceries.”

Dean titters, mirthful tears raining down his cheeks. “If I didn’t know what a jackass you can be, I’d say you were lying. But I know you—you’re an asshole.”

“Long time ago. He wasn’t this big back then. He was some dorky boy with hopes of being a rock star with his two puppet friends. I only went to his apartment cause he looked gullible. It turns out I was right—after an uneventful night, I compensated myself with his groceries.”

“He’d probably punish you now. He’s one of the most eligible Doms in the club.”

“I’ll pass, I don’t go for seconds.” Seth sticks his tongue out in disgust.

“Whatever…so I spoke to Mistress Nikki, she wants to meet you but she’s busy with Master Roman now. They’re discussing his scene—you’ll meet her at the showroom though.”

“I—okay, that’s fine.” He hopes she’s not intimidating like Randy. “Thank you.” He accepts his drink from Xavier.

“Dean, I got you a Virgin Piña Colada—I hope you don’t mind.”

“It’s okay, Xavier.” Dean accepts the drink gratefully.

“I like your collar,” Seth tells Xavier, admiring the diamond item—it also has a D-ring on it. “What does it mean?”

“That he belongs to Master Randy.” Dean answers before Xavier can say anything.

“That I belong to my Master,” Xavier giggles, sipping his drink. “His ‘property’ if you will, but Master doesn’t like that term. But for us, it generally means that I belong to him—and that I am off limits to the other Doms. It symbolizes my commitment, love and devotion to him. It represents how deeply I trust him. And for Master, it’s the same for him—he’s just as committed, just as loving and just as devoted. He values and cherishes the fact that I choose to be vulnerable with him. So he takes care of me—and what I’ve entrusted him with.”

“It sounds like a marriage.”

“For us, it kinda is. And I’m happy—he’s the best.”

“So how does it work? This Master/slave thing you have going on?”

“Is this an interview?” Xavier giggles, “I thought you guys said it’s supposed to happen tomorrow.”

“Just curious,” Seth shrugs, blushing for reasons unknown to him.

“Joking,” Xavier is soft-spoken, but very flamboyant in the way he talks. “Master Randy and I, we’re in a 24/7 TPE relationship. We negotiated everything before we took that step. He controls everything in my life from my finances to my outfits—sometimes, it extends to what I eat as well.”

Seth’s eyes widen at that—the whole thing sounds insane. _Is this boy serious?_ He can’t imagine giving that kind of power to another human. It’s too extreme. Complete and utter insanity. His gaze finds Dean, who has a chiding look on his face. Shit, he’s doing that judgmental thing with his eyes again. He can feel his eyelids twitching a little.

“Isn’t that a bit drastic? Giving one person so much control?” he makes sure his tone of voice is nonjudgmental as possible.

Xavier titters like a little child, “Nope. There is something very powerful in giving up complete control to someone you 100% trust. It doesn’t happen overnight of course but if they prove themselves worthy—I don’t see why not. But that’s just me. Everyone has their opinion. With me, no one understands me better that Master Randy—I trust him so deeply that I know he wouldn’t do anything that would harm me. He does everything he does because it’s what’s best for _me,_ not for him. Structure and balance, that’s what he brings into my life. And I am so proud to be called his slave.”

“You’re disgustingly in love with him.” Seth’s distaste can’t be kept out of his voice this time. This whole Master/slave thing still makes no sense to him. It’s not something that he’d ever do. Life’s taught him a thing or two about how people can change—and he thinks Xavier’s kind of relationship is dangerous. But then again, he’s just met Xavier—he knows nothing about the dynamics of his and Master—no. Randy will do, the man isn’t his Master. Seth doesn’t know much about the dynamics of Xavier’s relationship with Randy so maybe it really does work for them.

“Because he’s worthy of my love. He earned it.”

Seth hums absently, “I’d probably do this whole thing for that diamond collar you have on. It’s totally glam.” He wouldn’t do it for all the money in the world.

“Thank you.”

“Xavier, grab your things, he’s making his way here.” Dean says quietly.

“Did you have a good time with your friends, Pet?” is Randy’s question immediately he gets to their table. And maybe it’s a fragment of his imagination but Seth swears there’s an underlying threat in the polite tone. Those pale blue eyes look between himself and Dean.

“I always have a great time with Dean, Master.”

The creep smiles. _Thank god._

“Good, you’re very reliable Dean. It’s only ten minutes until Roman’s scene…”

“We’re right behind you, Master.”

Randy remains in place.

“Seth, let’s go.”

For the second time tonight, Seth has to do a double take. Who is this and where is his best friend?

“Of course.”

Randy is the leader of the pack. Behind him, with a bit of space created is Xavier and then Dean and finally Seth. It becomes more apparent to Seth—how he doesn’t fit in here at all. Some of these people are giving him the stinky eye. Judging his appearance. What’s wrong with wearing skinny jeans and a band t-shirt? These people clearly don’t have great fashion sense—like Dean. Anyone who considers latex to be sexy clothing should be arrested to be honest. Nearly everyone in this club is committing a fashion crime.

The walls on the second level hold the same burgundy characteristics of the club. But a few pictures hang on them. Ranging from erotic paintings of submissives in varying positions to actual photos of D/s couples. Heck, there’s even a picture of Xavier kneeling before a seated Randy. He’s completely naked, thighs spread with his hands resting on them. There’s a serenity about him in the picture that Seth can’t understand. He doesn’t try to.

They go further into the hallway, passing a few rooms with a bunch of names inscribed to the doors in gold. Ranging from Alexa to Elias to Aleister. He hasn’t the time to ask what the rooms are for as Randy make a left turn, where they pause briefly while Randy enters the code and the glass doors slide open.

The first thing Seth notices about the room they’ve entered is that it doesn’t hold the same red characteristics of the club. The walls, he thinks, are a soft barely there grey color. And then he notes that it’s the same with the lighting too—a soft golden glow spreads over the insanely spacious room. The setting of this room reminds Seth of a gentlemen’s club.

Black leather C-shaped couches decorate the room—arranged so meticulously that they don’t look out of place or messy. At the foot of each couch is a red cushioned pillow. There can’t be more than fifteen couches surrounding the room. And they are all facing in the direction of a large stage. A glass wall separates the seating area from the stage. And the light on the stage is much brighter.

Seth feels like it’s two separate rooms to be honest. There’s another door, where the stage is. A lone, intricately designed, antique-looking, mahogany drawer occupies that room. It fits in perfectly with the white walls, commanding all the attention.

“Since you’re a guest, you’re allowed to occupy the couches.” Dean says, making Seth glance at him quizzically. “The subs kneel at their Doms’ feet—it’s protocol.”

“I see…” Seth frowns, scanning the area that is slowly piling up with people. A woman with platinum blonde hair, highlighted with streaks of pink, leads a giant of a man by a leash attached to his collar. Seth tries not to gawk but he fails miserably. What the fuck? “Um…” he looks away at the big man’s intimidating gaze. No thanks, he doesn’t want to die. Not tonight. Scurrying off to catch up with Randy, he settles on the couch beside him. Xavier is kneeling in between his legs, face turned to Randy.

Dean is already on his knees when a woman wearing a body-hugging leather dress that is designed to show off her bare chest comes to join them. Her breasts are in full view but nipple pasties cover her nipples. Her raven hair rests majestically on her shoulders and she has a surety about her—dominance, like Randy.

“Gentlemen,” her voice is deep too.

The greetings come immediately, from everyone seated in their circle.

“You’re Seth, correct?”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He looks her in the eyes, rules and regulations forgotten.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. How have you been welcomed into the club so far? Anything I need to about?”

“No…Ma’am,” she’s courteous, like Randy. But her face is also made of stone.

“I’m pleased to hear that.”

Seth only smiles kindly, turning his attention to the other side of the room, where the stage is. The light still burns brightly as the door opens, one huge man wearing those black bibs that Dean told him about coming into view. He’s carrying a very heavy looking padded leather bench. He moves around a bit, trying to find the perfect position in which he can place the bench. He settles for a space a little distance to the left part of the stage. And then he goes to stand on one corner of the room—unmoving, resembling a British guard.

Five minutes later and the door opens again, a woman walking in this time. Seth’s eyes nearly bulge out of his eye sockets. He can’t help it. This girl is completely naked, all porcelain skin and rose cheeks. The chatter in the room seems to die down a bit as the girl—Paige, Dean said her name is, graciously pads to the center of the stage.

Everything about her screams discipline. From the way she flawlessly falls to her knees—spreading her thighs until they are shoulder length apart. To the way her hands rest on her thighs, soft palms facing skywards. Her posture—straight, enviable, perfect—screams discipline. It’s in the way her head is bowed. Seth can’t accurately explain it, but there is a discipline in how exposed she is. How at peace, and comfortable she looks. So disciplined that you’d swear she wasn’t even breathing—just…waiting.

The chatter dies immediately when the lights dim on their side so that only the stage is lit up. Everyone sits up, everyone. And then they wait. A minute. Two minutes. Three. Four. Five. The anticipation is killing Seth. He’s teeming with it, clandestine thoughts weaving through his mind. _Dying._ What’s so special about this man? That even in his absence he still commands attention.

The door opens, it feels like it takes forever to Seth, like a teasing of some sort. But it doesn’t stop his skin from gaining goosebumps, nor does it stop his heart from beating faster all of a sudden. It certainly doesn’t stop his body from feeling feverish—nor the way his stomach suddenly churns over and over again. His gaze snaps to Paige—even with the distance he can tell, her breathing pattern’s changed all of a sudden. He can see the rapid rising and falling of her chest.

Inexplicable shivers runs down his spine. An electricity, faint at first, ghosts through the air. Teasing and taunting until it’s barely bearable. _Don’t fidget._ It’s palpable now—the surge of energy. Seth bites his lip, holds his breath—hearing stuttered breaths spreading over the room.

_And then he enters._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya!Can someone please pray for me to the deities, and gods and the universe and whatever. This chapter is long, and I'm trying so hard to keep things short. I dont want this to be as long as my first story. So puhleeaaase? 
> 
> Also, for Roman's scene, there's a classisical piece that accompanies it. I wrote when the music starts--if you want to listen to it--its Camille Saint-Saëns--Danse Macabre. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

More.

The first thing that Seth notices about _him_ is that he’s wearing more clothes than he’s seen everyone in this club. A crisp, intimidatingly white dress shirt covers his upper body. Seth can’t help but notice how perfect it fits him, hinting the tempting body hidden beneath it. For his lower body, he has on fine charcoal pants with a nice sharp crease. Seth tries to keep his eyes from straying to the man’s dick print but dammit it’s hard. Those pants fit him like they were made to worship a body as glorious as his. _It looks like he’s packing some heavy machinery._

Seth blushes beet red--embarrassed. _Could you be anymore slutty?_ His gaze quickly snaps up, landing on the— _holy hell._

_Was this man carved with the gods?_

This man can’t be human, Seth refuses. He’s tall, very tall and he’s huge—incredibly muscled. Beneath his stubble beard is a chiseled jawline that would make any supermodel jealous. His luscious midnight black hair has such a glow that any hair-product model would be jealous. Tied into a bun so neatly that not even a single hair peeks out. _He’s meticulous._ Nothing about the man— _Master Roman,_ he reminds himself—is disorderly or out of place.

With great dismay, Seth realizes that he can’t look into Master Roman’s eyes. Not with the way he has them narrowed in on the kneeling girl who Seth notices has gained goosebumps. _At least you’re not the only one._ Seth thinks if it weren’t for the great discipline Paige seems to possess then she’d be panting like a dog hungry for a juicy steak. Despite her perfect position, her breathing continues to be unsteady—her body is flushed, nipples suddenly hardened and crinkled.

 _His_ footsteps command Seth’s attention. And again, Seth has his gaze snapping to the Master. His footsteps are precise, controlled, purposeful—assertive. _Click-click-click._ There’s a torment in their rhythm, how slow they are. _Wait._ They seem to tell Paige. He’s doing it on purpose, slowly walking his way to the clearly affected girl. Paige’s chest lifts and falls more erratically when he stands beside her. The attention that he has on her has Seth himself feeling strangely bare—vulnerable, almost. Still unable her Master’s eyes, Seth can’t help but notice the intensity in which Paige is being looked at. Like nothing else matters in the whole world except her.

A sound of breathless groans, moans and hitches spread over their side of room. Master Roman is…he’s gripping Paige’s hair, making her look up at him and he’s—

_His hands._

Seth bites his bottom lip, resisting the urge to groan frustratedly. Fucking hell, he doesn’t want his mind to go to the gutter but the temptation is strong this time. _Those are a man’s hands._ No. _Gentleman._ He corrects himself, that’s what Dean had said his Master is. _A gentleman._ Masculine, large, strong with neatly trimmed nails.

Without a word leaving her Master, Paige turns slightly, and then leans forward—kissing his prominent bulge. Seth swallows, he doesn’t want to say he’s jealous but… _breathe Seth._ He’s not the only one affected. The sound of bodies moving against leather can be heard. Tiny whimpers are reaching his ears. A current flows through their end of the room—seductive, heady, intoxicating. He doesn’t dare take his eyes off of what’s in front of him though, not wanting to miss a single thing.  

Slowly, with his left hand buried deep in black hair, Master Roman drags Paige to her feet. It’s not rough but it definitely isn’t gentle either—it’s the perfect balance between both. And it has Seth groaning low in his throat. _Just don’t get a boner._ Dean’s words from earlier ring in his mind—taunting. It’s torture to admit that his body is slowly reacting—hard as he tries to fight against it.

Paige now stands with her legs spread shoulder length apart. Her hands are clasped together behind her head. She’s staring straight ahead, her chest heaving. _How is she so comfortable in her nakedness?_ It’s so beautiful. Her confidence is beautiful. Seth thinks there’s something empowering about it—despite her vulnerability.

The purposeful footsteps start again. Intimidatingly slow this time— _click, click, click._ He’s pacing around her, hands joined behind his back. _Inspecting._ Seth realizes that in her exposed position, Paige is allowing her Master to examine her body. Her Master is vigilant, walking around a very vulnerable Paige, scrutinizing every nuance of her body—every little detail. Going down on one knee, his hand slithers in between her thighs… _Oh…fuck._ That strong hand slides up, tauntingly unhurried, until it reaches Paige’s vagina.

Moans dance in the air, coming from their side of the room while Paige…she’s biting her lip hard enough to draw blood. You can tell that she’s fighting hard against the urge to make a sound. Seth isn’t fairing better, there isn’t much room in his pants. He can almost feel those big hands in between his thighs—slowly exploring his body _._ One lone finger slithers inside Paige’s vagina, coming out dripping wet. Thick liquid drips to the floor. Large hands trail their way up her body until he’s standing upright again. Paige’s lip part open—that finger finds it’s way inside her mouth. She sucks dutifully, fervently, tasting herself on her Master’s finger. _He’s such a gentleman._

And then he leaves her.

Paige lets out a deep shuddering breath.

Those footsteps again. Away from Paige this time. He’s headed for the mahogany drawer. Silently opening it, Seth watches in fascination as he retrieves a number of weird (to him) items. He recognizes a few of those items, from the sex stores he goes to with Dean. This man must be some sort of perfectionist neat freak. Seth notices the way he sets the items on top of the drawer in a specific order—from smallest item to the biggest.  

And then he starts stripping.

Seth’s mouth opens to accommodate more oxygen. It’s desperately needed. His heart rate picks up, fear gripping him for indulging in this. It feels like doing something you know is wrong for you but indulging in it nonetheless. _A guilty pleasure._ And this is…wrong. Wrong because he could die of a heart attack. Because this man’s a tease. There’s something about his slowness—a silent command. _You’re going to wait._ A teasing. _I want your mind to run wild._ A seduction. _I’ll touch you without using my hands._

One by one, he unbuttons his dress shirt—thick, long fingers precise. And then he moves on to his silver cufflinks. The cufflinks are placed on the drawer, right at the beginning—taking the position of the smallest item on the drawer. His shirt slides off, one arm and then the other. The unmoving man—who was stood at the corner—comes to take his shirt from him, leaving the room.

_Paige’s Master is a god._

No, really he is. Seth greedily drinks up bulging biceps, his stomach despite reveals a slight six pack, so deliciously hard. And a tattoo that covers his whole right arm extending to his pec. It’s intricate—a tribal one maybe. He’s perfect bronze skin with a body to die for. This man is perfection personified. An Adonis. _Such…etherealness._

He grabs something from on top of the drawer, Seth can’t tell what it is. Slowly he makes his way back to a waiting Paige. Large hands touch smooth, blushing skin, seductive in their journey, caressing, stroking, teasing. A sudden gasp from Paige. Large hands around her throat. Gentle. Tightening. Another gasp. Rougher. Paige’s eyes close. Rosy lips parted in silent moans. Seth whimpers when Master Roman buries his face in her hair while choking her—it’s so sensual. _Those hands._ They know perfectly well what to do—they stimulate every part of her neck. The grip lessens, their gazes are locked onto each other, Paige’s small hands barely covering the large ones around her throat.

Master Roman’s hand, his right one, remains firmly around Paige’s neck. Digging, bruising, massaging. That hand is a tease. Seth holds his breath, watching his other hand make it’s way into Paige’s parted lips. The way that hand digs into her mouth…

A sneaky moan emits Seth. There’s too much electricity pulsing in his veins. Floating in the room. His gaze briefly flickers to Xavier who’s giving a very aroused looking Randy a blowjob. As unsettling as it is, Seth thinks he can’t blame them. Paige’s moans still his attention. _Holy fuck._ Master Roman’s digging in her mouth like he lost something. That hand. _Those fingers._ They having a wicked conversation with Paige’s parted mouth.

Her Master’s other hand has moved from around Paige’s neck, revealing a penis shaped toy with straps. Dean told him about this toy—a penis ball gag. The gag travels to Paige’s blushing vagina. Her long moan echoes in the entire room as the penis gag penetrates her. Thrust. Thrust. Pause. Thrust. _She’s an oasis._ Seth swallows, he has no saliva. His mouth is dry, hands shaking.

The dildo gag comes out dripping wet. It goes to her mouth.

Unconsciously, Seth crosses his legs. He moves around the couch. _No position is comfortable._ Paige’s eyes are blown wide with lust, desire. Her body is shuddering, vibrating as if she’s standing on a vibrating machine. Her mouth is gagged and then the side of her neck is being peppered with kisses right before she’s left vacant again. Despite the little distance, Seth can see how her face takes on a distressed expression as soon as she’s left alone.

Her Master comes back carrying red rope in his hands. What is he going to use it for?

Grateful that their side is dimmed, Seth gawks freely as Paige’s Master brings her to him, making her grip his covered cock while moving around swiftly, sensually. A rope around her middle. She moans. Sensuous kisses to her hard breasts. He runs the rope around her shoulders, teasing. Her body, his masterpiece. Fervent moans spread across the room—melodious. Rope all around her and then— _holy fuck—_ she’s suspended to the ceiling. Arms behind her back. Pale thighs splayed wide open. Completely exposed. All of her. Her silken skin. Her pinkness. Wet. Glistening. Dripping. _Drenched._

Seth can’t accurately explain the look on her face but there’s this…daze about her. Like an addict high on drugs. A serene expression molds with the daze, making her look radiant. A part of Seth thinks this whole thing looks torturous, excruciatingly painful even. But when Paige’s Master grips her thigh, swinging her forward, the bound girl releases what sounds like a mixture between a content sigh and a lazy purr. _It’s freaky._  

A blindfold snatches her vision. She’s kissed gently on her head—and then left agonizingly empty. Seth’s body teems with longing on her behalf (both in fear and sinful anticipation) when Master Roman trails his path back to the mahogany drawer. Seth finds himself wondering which item he might pick first.

It’s a…red rose. That… isn’t what Seth was expecting. Classical music penetrates the air, starting softly as Paige’s Master runs the rose all over her body—softly, unhurried. Paige sways back and forth as she squirms from the sensations. And then lower and lower he runs it, rubbing it against her clitoris—thrusting the velvet inside her. She moans—high-pitched and wanton. It’s even worse when slowly the stalk of the rose is used to penetrate her. Paige squirms again, but she can’t do anything—she’s trapped. The rose remains inside her, serving as another decoration to her blushing body.   

He leaves her again.  

When he comes back, he’s carrying a number of items. He moves around, in time with the music, using different items to tease her body. Nipple clamps. Ice. A vibrator. Pinwheels. A curved metal toy that had been soaked in water stimulates her second hole. A sudden jerk of her scarlet body. She’s completely soaked. Her Master’s eyes close on occasion—he’s enjoying this, moving with precision to the music while spanking her. Stroking her. Tempting. Taunting. Exploring.

He moves faster, masterfully—in accordance with the classical piece. The more it heightens, the more he teases Paige’s body—coaxing out a reaction. With each assertive movement, he captures everyone’s attention. Everyone stops to let out a breath when he pauses, almost teasing, before going back into it with a different toy.

He’s using floggers this time.

Seth is completely transfixed. Doesn’t want to miss a thing. There’s something enchanting about the way Master Roman’s gesticulate motions as he expertly flogs Paige. It’s perfectly timed to the music. It’s hypnotic the way he nods his head to it—as if he’s not here. He looks possessed, feral almost. And how he pauses, taking a deep breath when the music returns to it’s slowness. He removes the gag from Paige and it’s _heaven._

Seriously, with how freaked out Seth would be were it him being used like that, he can’t control the way his body muscles tighten deliciously. Or the throbbing _in there._ And it’s not Paige necessarily, it’s the sounds that _he_ is drawing out of her. Seth has never heard anything quite like them. _Never met anyone like him._ How he moves, alive, delirious—stealing everyone’s attention with one tiny movement.

His dominance—how it feels like there’s a light to it, solace. But how it turns darker, more brooding and mysterious with the crescendo of the classical piece. Seth bites his lip, it’s so hot here. There isn’t enough air. The sounds of Paige’s ecstatic cries merge with the dark groans on their side of the room. On either side of him, the Dominants are being pleasured by their submissives. Paige’s moans, mellifluous, reach a crescendo. _It’s torture._

Pressing his thighs together, Seth has to grip the couch to keep himself from soaring to the roof when Paige orgasms with an obscenely loud, “Master!” she’s spilling. Gushing all over and... _holy fuck!_ Now he knows what that rose was meant for. She’s drenching it, soaking it burgundy with her fluid. Rapturous cries grace the air, her body twitching in a seizure-like frenzy.

A gush inside his jeans. Unexpected.

Seth clamps his thighs together tighter—embarrassed. _No, you did not._ He did. He’s been sweating profusely since this whole thing began. He looks down, unable to continue watching the scene in front of him. The wetness inside his jeans is slowly becoming uncomfortable. His body is twitching—feels like he’s being stimulated with electricity all over his body.

The resistance doesn’t last too long. Especially when he hears the sound of a belt buckle.

 _Those hands._ Seth’s heart rate spikes up all over again—he’s going to die from a heart attack tonight. He’s resigned himself to that fact. Especially with the way Master Roman’s strong hands move with deep intent, unbuttoning his dress pants. Seth wants to take a minute, a breath—look away. But he can’t. _His hands are alluring._ Delicious anticipation sends hot shivers down his spine.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Seth says silently. _He_ graces them with his erection. Seth won’t lie, his hole clenches in fear immediately. _Holy fuck, it’s huge._ Abnormal huge—no human has a dick that size. That mammoth dick is so long, reminding Seth of the ridiculously large dildos that are only ever meant for decoration at sex stores. He’s thick too, very thick and veiny. His arousal leaks profusely. The sight makes Seth’s mouth water. He may not be courageous enough to try and have that dick breach him but he would try his damn hardest to take it in his mouth.

Despite Paige being soaking wet, Master Roman still lubricates his cock. Seth thinks it’s a good idea—that heavy machine really could wreck some holes if not lubricated. Seth tries not to be jealous, he really does. But the man turns away from them, back view just as glorious as the front, setting himself between spread legs. Paige screams bloody murder causing Seth’s whole body to startle. _He’s inside her._ Seth holds back a whine, throbbing painfully inside his jeans. _What’s happened to the air?_

Seth stares hypnotized as Master Roman plows into Paige. It’s agonizingly slow, his possession of her. But she’s still crying out in euphoria—her painful desire so evident. The music’s stopped playing, bringing the all the attention to the sensuous cries echoing in the room. Paige is in smoldering ecstasy—her feet curled tightly, spread legs accommodating the delicious hunk of a man.  

Needy whimpers freely escape Seth when Paige is suddenly freed from her restraints, her Master expertly holding her while moving them to the padded bench. Paige is bent over the bench, upper body resting on it and scarlet ass sticking out. Her hands are gripped firmly behind her back. The blindfold’s removed revealing her pure carnal pleasure.

The need to do _something_ about the problem in his pants agonizes Seth, making his vision blur. It feels like he’s being teased too—tortured, and instructed to hold it until _he_ tells him to let go. _Like he did the first time._ Seth focuses on Master Roman’s big hands, how they press Paige deeper and deeper into the padded bench. On his strong, sweaty arms—how they bulge with each press they make to Paige. He lusts over that glistening chest, how it heaves up and down in pleasure. Seth focuses on that clenched jaw, and how perfect the man’s lips look. He concentrates on Master Roman’s Adonis-like face, wet with sweat. Seth licks his lips, biting them from the need to touch himself while pretending that it’s _him_ who’s touching him. His body teems with desire, yearning to be in Paige’s position so that it can—

_Fuck._

Seth’s eyes widen.

_Double fuck. His eyes._

An onyx, almond shaped eye regards him with what Seth thinks is burning intensity. While the other one—a different color—the most intriguing shade of grey regards him with the same intensity. _He has different colored eyes._ One an enchanting, shimmering onyx color and the other an enigmatic, piercing silver grey. The pressure to look away is getting to Seth. _His_ _gaze_ …

It burns Seth’s body with a fire that’s too much to take. The ragged breathing returns. Seth wants to make an escape somehow—go somewhere to cool down. _He can’t._ He’s trapped in place by two blazing coals. Master Roman’s jaw tightens so hard Seth fears he might break his jaw. He starts pounding Paige without restraint, with the eye contact fixed on Seth. He’s groaning too, like a sexually frustrated animal with Paige screaming like a banshee making Seth jolt every so often.

Master Roman drags her up by her hair. Closes his eyes as his right hand covers Paige’s neck. He’s going so hard, the sounds starts reverberating in the entire main room—loudly. He’s being rough with her, viciously pounding her delicate body. It’s now completely red, dripping wet, and pliant. Her hands futilely attempt to cover his. It’s a pure feral, carnal dance they’re engaging in. _Pure fucking personified._

Those eyes open again, as Paige yells louder—heaven and hell found in her voice. It’s a relentless pounding she’s receiving—her tears mingle with her sweat. Seth’s gaze goes back to the eyes he feels on him. It’s just in time to see Master Roman whisper something into Paige’s ear. The blissed out girl shudders, convulsing badly against the large man behind her. He’s holding her body tightly, while she quivers like she’s experiencing a seizure.

 _His gaze._ Seth stifles a moan. Those unusual eyes are burning his skin. _His_ jaw tightens while he holds Paige firmly to him. His groan is deep, booming loudly. It echoes in the entire main room. It’s such a beautiful sound. Seth closes his eyes, trying to rein in his self-control. It’s futile, his erection is painful and the sounds that _he_ is making. Seth releases a silent whine, unable to wipe the bead of sweat on his forehead. He fears making any sudden movements, it feels like he might shoot through the roof with the smallest movement.

The remaining few minutes pass by in a blur. As soon as Master Roman gathers a sluggish Paige into his arms, disappearing with her, Seth makes his escape. He fails to hear Dean’s voice calling out to him. He has no idea where he’s rushing to but he needs to get out of here. _Escape._ His body buzzes painfully, legs feeling like spaghetti. In the hallway, he pauses briefly, heart hammering against his ribcage. Are there no toilets in this place?

Further down the hallway, he spots it. Seth nearly stumbles while making a dash towards it. Entering the nearest stall, he shuts the door behind him. Shaky hands undo his jeans, a round of “Fuck…fuck…fuck,” spilling out of him silently. The sensations that fan his dick when it’s released from it’s confines has him moaning loudly before he remembers where he is. He clamps down on his lip, viciously stroking his hard dick. He’s leaking so hard that he doesn’t need any lube.

Closing his eyes he imagines strong hands. Grabbing him, pinning him to the wall. Rough kisses down his neck. A warm tongue soothing the pain. Wandering hands burning every inch of his skin, sinfully gripping his derrière. Grazing his nipples. Worshipping them until chafed. “Oh…fuck, please.” Seth’s hips sway of their own accord, thrusting forward. He imagines _his_ hands around his throat—expertly moving like they were with Paige. He imagines being touched with a hunger so ferocious that Seth spills his essence in a matter of seconds. All for _him._

Seth releases a harsh breath, convulsing to the point of insanity. _Calm down._ His mind is still playing the pictures in his mind. _His_ scene. His heavily muscled body. _His dick._ Seth’s eyes snap open at that. No, no, no. Definitely not _his_ dick. That dick isn’t meant to penetrate anything. Despite Paige having took it, Seth still remembers those brief flickers of pain that were etched on her face when her Master invaded her. He’s breaking out in a cold sweat just thinking about it.

Having recovered mildly, Seth cleans himself up and then leaves the stall. His reflection reveals how flushed he is. _Relax Rollins._ Letting out a shaky breath, he thoroughly rinses his hands. And then tries to fix his damp hair to look more presentable.

Exiting the bathroom, he begins his quest to find Dean. There’s noises coming from inside the doors he passed on the way to the main room earlier. The sounds are particularly loud on the door with the name Elias. Seth has no idea what’s going on in there but he can guess. Whoever’s screaming sounds like they’re in heaven but the hoarseness of the person’s screams freak him out and he quickly escapes.

Dean is nowhere in sight.

Seth retrieves his phone, checking for any missed calls or messages. Nothing. He trusts Dean enough to know that he hasn’t left him but Seth won’t lie—he’s highly uncomfortable at the moment. There are a few eyes peeking at him, and he shies away from the attention by fleeing to the bar area. Unfortunately, he can’t order alcohol in this place so he’ll have to do with the virgin drink handed to him by an attractive barman, Ricochet, his tag says. Seth suppresses a snort. Really? Ricochet? What kind of name is that?

Seth spends close to an hour alone, gawking at everything happening around him. The way these people behave makes him feel naïve for some reason. Like he hasn’t been living at all. He feels like what they’re doing (what _he_ was doing) dismisses every ‘bad’ bone he ever thought he had in his body. He feels like a total newbie and he hates it. He hates these people. And their corsets. Their skimpy underwear. Their weird kink shit. He even hates the Nine Inch Nails song blasting on the speakers. (Not really). He hates everything about this club. He does. Every—

The hairs at the back of his neck stand suddenly. There’s a presence behind him, overwhelming. It has Seth turning abruptly, wanting to tell whoever’s boring their gaze into him to fuck off. He’s not interested in any kinky shit. All breath leaves him.

_Piercing unusual eyes._

How do you breathe again? Seth isn’t sure, he doesn’t remember. His lungs refuse any air, even as he parts his lips, fighting to get more oxygen into his lungs.

“Seth, I was looking all over for you. I almost thought you got freaked out and escaped back home.” Dean almost breaks his daze, almost. But two different colored eyes regard him mysteriously, leaving him completely dumbfounded. _Say something, you brat._

“Uh, n-no. Psh, why the hell would I do that?” Seth waves his right hand around awkwardly. “How are you?” he forces himself to maintain eye contact with unwavering morel brown and silver grey eyes.

“I am fine,” holy shit, his voice is so deep. It resonates deep in Seth’s chest. _His_ hand lifts up, extended—humongous up close. The skin reveals years of hard work—veins and tendons on the back of them prominent. _You know where your hand has been._ Seth flushes, swallowing loudly. A bit fearful but having no choice really, he allows their hands to meet. He sucks in an intake of air, trying not to enjoy how that big hand swallows his smaller one whole.

The touch is deliciously exhilarating, current bolts inside his veins. He doesn’t want to pull away—not from _his_ firm but surprisingly gentle grip. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Rollins. Your friend here has been talking nonstop about you.”

Oh, has he now? Seth tries not to glower at Dean. “Likewise, Sir. Only good things I hope,” he tries and fails to continue holding steady eye contact. He settles on blinking his eyes rapidly instead. He’s not going to drop his gaze—no matter how tempting. This silent intimidation isn’t going to continue.

“Of course—good things only,” Seth is left painfully empty when the Greek god withdraws his hand. _Touch me again_. “He tells me you’re going to fill in for your friend tomorrow.”

“Um, y-yes.” Dammit! Since when does he stutter? The man cocks an eyebrow and Seth is forced to clear his throat, trying again. “She has an assignment, so I took her place. I am not incompetent though, I studied the info she gave me.” Why is explaining himself right now?

That damn arched brow again. “I see,” the man looks amused for some reason. “I will be happy to help in any way I can. Your eagerness to learn about our lifestyle is very refreshing—young blood.”

Seth internally rolls his eyes. Why is this man talking as if he’s so much more older? Bayley told him Master Roman’s only thirty-one, that’s a small age gap of…fucking hell! _Twelve freaking years._ But he’s still so gorgeous. And Seth normally stays away from much older guys but with this one, he’d gladly make an exception. Maybe even grant him more than one round. “Oh, I’m not the interested one—Bayley is. Your kink shit is weird—even for my sometimes quirky tastes. What y’all do takes the cup—right up there, man. Who in their right mind agrees to being tied to the ceiling?”

“Seth!” Dean sounds horrified, embarrassed too. The way his tone screeches…he only ever uses that tone when upset or mad. “Oh my god, I’m sorry Master Roman. I-I talked to him about this at—”

“It’s okay, Dean,” is said simply. Seth can’t contain his blush, sometimes his mouth doesn’t wait for his brain to process his thoughts—it just spews. His mouth opens and closes silently, trying to construct a sensible sentence. Master Roman cocks his head to one side, gaze inspecting. It’s less than a second but it feels like forever to Seth. “I’m looking forward to tomorrow, Mr. Rollins.”

That is not what Seth had been expecting. His words make Seth gulp for some inexplicable reason. Hesitance again when _he_ extends his hand. His deep gaze is shrewd, daring too. _Bastard._ “Not as much as I am… _Master._ ” Yes, Seth’s going there. Grey and brown eyes don’t even blink but they darken. Despite that impassive face, the grip on Seth’s hand tightens—giving _him_ away. Oh, he’s definitely affected.   

“Gentlemen,” Master Roman tips his head, walking away.

Seth allows a long, shuddering breath to escape him.  

“What the hell was that?” Dean occupies the stool next to him.

“What?” Seth shrugs innocently.

“You know what. Don’t play dumb with me.”

“He started it,” Seth laughs, although he’s still trembling.

“You’re lucky he didn’t chase you out of the club.”

“Something tells me he’s more…what’s that word you used? Oh yes, _ripened._ Something tells me he’s more ripened than that. A real gentleman.” Seth grips his glass with trembling hands. “Is he bi?” he has to know, although the piece of information won’t exactly be helpful to him.

“Pansexual.”

“Oh…he fucks everything.”

“Rarely. Twice a year…maybe three if we’re lucky.”

“The same…partner?”

Dean observes him curiously. Seth stares right back. He’s not sure why he’s so interested but part of him is dying to know. Call it stupid curiosity. “No.” Dean shakes his head. “But he does have his go-to subs. Not everyone’s eligible which is a bummer. Usually, it’s Paige and sometimes Tyler’s Master--Fandango—he loans him to Master Roman. For different play scenes—sex too, if that’s what Tyler wants and Master Fandango’s agreed to it. They negotiate it. I think Tyler’s contract is ending soon, and word around the club is Master Roman would like to take him as his submissive. Tyler’s been behaving particularly good a lot lately. And that boy has no goody-two-shoes bone in his body. He’s a brat through and through but maybe he’s trying to up his chances. And then there’s Lio—he’s the brattiest of them all. And lastly Mandy Rose, she’s still new but she caught his eye. That lucky bitch!”

Wow…

Seth is speechless. He’s a whore too, he never sleeps with the same guy twice but there’s just _something_ that rubs him off the wrong way about that man sleeping with different people. It’s hypocritical of Seth, but the twisting of his heart just makes him judge the man more. “Where’s your friend?” he changes the topic. If he continues down this *not jealous* path then Dean will definitely figure him out.

“Xavier? He went to the playroom with Master Randy. You won’t see him for the rest of the night.”

Seth nods, “And how long are we staying here for?”

“Do you want to leave?”

Seth is about to answer yes. He really is. But when he curves his head left, finding _his_ vigilant gaze scanning every area of the club—like a King ruling over his people, the first word that sneaks past is, “No.” their eyes clash, Seth burning hot from an unwavering gaze. “Let’s stay a little while longer.”

* * *

 

Seth wakes up feeling queasy—not enough to make him vomit just the nervous churning of his stomach when dreading something he knows is coming. Like a first interview. Or your first day at school. It’s that feeling that grips you when you’re the new kid at school. _Complete nervousness._

He has no idea why. Maybe, maybe it’s because _he_ visited him last night. In his dreams. Seth takes a deep shuddering breath, trying to chase everything away. _It’s just a silly crush._ Nope, not even a crush. It was just a one day thing. It’s impossible to develop a crush on someone that quickly.

“Hey, I thought you’d be awake.” Bayley comes barging into his room.

“It wouldn’t kill you to knock, you know. What would you have done if I were buck naked, riding some dude’s dick like crazy.”  

Bayley rolls her eyes, “I’ve seen you do that plenty of times. I’m not even affected anymore, you…you slut. Shut up!” she smacks his chest as he laughs at her. It’s just, hearing Bayley utter any profane word is always so funny to him. “You better get ready. Dean told me Master Roman cancels interviews when the interviewer arrives late.”

“He’s crazy. He should understand anyway. Who hosts an interview at seven in the morning? The man’s club doesn’t close until late, very late. We were some of the last ones to leave last night. That was at three in the morning. I haven’t had enough sleep,” Seth falls back on the bed, burying himself into his pillows.

“You could sleep at noon and still complain that you haven’t had enough sleep.”

“Because we’re not all vampires.” Seth peeks an eye out. He doesn’t get the whole early bird thing. It’s stupid, he only tolerates it on days he has early classes at the university. “Can you make me some coffee at least?”

“Done already. I’m also making Avo toast so you better hurry…” Bayley snatches his pillow, tone honeyed.  

“Fine…” Seth sighs. “You’re making my bed too.”

“Um, fuck no! I don’t know if you brought a guy here last night. I’m not about to touch any disgusting body fluids.”

“I didn’t!” Seth yells before closing the bathroom. _I was already satiated—twice._ He thinks back to Master Roman—no, _Roman._ Roman’s scene last night, it left him drained for what felt like forever. Seth still remembers, every tiny detail fresh in his mind. It had all been a very interesting, very arousing experience. He knows it’s all due to the man with blazing different colored eyes. But it’s time he tried to forget about it. After this morning’s interview—part of him hopes he’ll never have to see Roman again. There’s something about him, a _danger_ that Seth doesn’t like.

“I wish I could lend you my car but I need it, sweet cheeks.” Bayley murmurs, while Seth collects his things. He managed to get ready in under thirty minutes, so he’s bit early. An hour early to be exact. Seth wants to refute his conscious, but deep down he knows, he hurried through getting ready because of Bayley’s words. He doesn’t want to be late. Not when he wants to see _him_ again. _Just this last time, Seth._ “And wear your glasses, your eyes look irritable today.”

Seth rolls his eyes but obeys nonetheless. “That’s because I haven’t had much sleep. I’ll see you later?”

“You’re leaving now, isn’t too early?”

“No,” Seth meets her gaze, faking indifference. She doesn’t have to know. “You’re the one who said he cancels interviews. I don’t want you to rip my head off.”

Bayley is completely oblivious. “Oh, well alright then. Safe travel, and don’t be too much of a smart mouth. This is for my viewers.”

“Yes mom,” his glasses bump against his nose when he kisses her cheek. “Bye, cupcake.”

The ride to Elysium is a peaceful one. The Uber driver, thankfully, isn’t creepy. He keeps his eye on the road, not even bothering with small talk. Because the roads are clear, Seth arrives at his destination in less than thirty minutes. It’s 06:20 a.m. when he makes it to the club.

“Hello, I’m Seth Rollins. Here for the interview with Ro—I mean Master Roman?” Seth gets his words out quickly, looking at the intimidating guard stood at the club’s front doors.

The man eyes him up and down, “It’s at seven.” The idiot tells him as if Seth doesn’t know that.

“I’m a bit early,” a fact that embarrasses him quite a bit now.

“A moment, please.” The guard leaves him, taking out his walkie-talkie. Seth struggles against squirming, the man built like a tree eyes him intently while talking to whoever’s on the other side. He comes back, intimidating expression and all. “You’re okay to enter. Pass at the reception area, Tyler will help you.”

“Thanks.”

The lobby of the club is still impressive in the morning light. It screams total elegance and luxury. No wonder this club costs a fortune. Seth spares himself a brief glance on the long mirrors, pleased to note that he looks fine as fuck. He’s wearing the jeans that he wanted to borrow Dean yesterday—the ones that show off his ass. And an even tighter black t-shirt. No, he’s not wearing the outfit to capture the eye of a certain Greek god. He just wants to look good today.

“Tyler…hi. I’m back for the interview?”

“Oh yes…” the blond twink smiles—a bit condescending it seems but Seth can’t be sure. “You’re very early, I’m afraid.” It’s definitely condescending. The twink eyeballs him like he can see right through him.

“I know. I don’t have a car and Bayley’s using hers. Dean is sleeping in, so I had to take an Uber. The roads can get heavy so I decided rather early than late.” He’s explaining too much.

“Very impressive, Mr. Rollins.”

 _His voice._ Seth looks over his shoulder. When did he get here? _Breathe, Seth._ His mind won’t cooperate with his body. Seth finds himself trapped by a blank stare. Involuntarily, his gaze drinks up Roman’s ethereal beauty—hypnotized by his lips…that are moving. Oh, shit! “I’m sorry, what?” the nonchalant tone Seth was trying for wavers. Dammit, and it was only that last note.

“Refreshments while you wait? Coffee, tea, water, juice?”

“Coffee,” it comes out too breathless, dazed—all caused by _his_ lips. What would they feel like touching his neck? “Coffee’s fine,” Seth repeats, desperately hoping to keep his mind out of the gutter.

“Tyler, if you would be so kind…” that deep voice trails off.

“Yes Master,” it’s soft and honey-like.

He’s wearing a suit again—on a Saturday. Crisp white dress shirt, it’s hugging his muscles in all the delicious ways. A navy tie around his neck. Navy pants, with a sharp crease. No blazer. The suit is worshipping his body. He’s not modeling it—it’s definitely the other way round. _Not fair._ No guy should be this hot, this perfect.

“Being ignored bothers me a lot, Mr. Rollins. For all the attention I give I think it’s only fair that favor is returned.” _His_ voice is deeper somehow, stern.

“Sorry!” where is the fucking squeak coming from? “What were you saying?”

Furrowed brows, “I’ll see you at seven?” he doesn’t wait for a response, spinning on his heels.

Why does it feel like that wasn’t his original question?

Seth plops down on one of the burgundy couches, placing his bag on his lap. He takes out his phone and his headsets. _Shut everything away, Seth._ He does just that, Korn helping him drift away. It doesn’t last long because the blond twink returns, patting his thigh and gesturing to the coffee table. “Thanks.” Seth grabs his coffee.  

Seven comes too soon. It really does. _No need to be so nervous._ Seth reminds himself. This guy’s just like any other guy. Even if he is a bit intimidating…more so than that other guy—Randy. The office Tyler guides him to is empty, but it holds the burgundy characteristics of the club. The tall windows allow you to see the impressive beauty of Miami. Near the windows, are four c-shaped, bronze leather couches. A sparkling glass coffee table occupying the middle. A long dark-wood table, almost as big as Tyler’s, is the centerpiece of the large office—two black leather chairs keeping it company.

The paintings on the burgundy walls snatch his attention. They resemble the art he saw in the hallway last night. Erotic paintings depicting various forms of quirky (to Seth) BDSM kink shit. There are a few pictures of submissive in varying poses—with rope around them. All of them completely naked. Where these images should look provocative, Seth finds them strangely intriguing—beautiful even.

“Why don’t you set up your camera? Master Roman will join you soon.”

Seth blinks once, twice—attempting to break free from his daze. “Alright.” He clears his throat. Even the aromas in this room are enticing. Clean air blended with woodsy, manly fragrances—it’s completely intoxicating.

“Very good.” _That voice._ Seth jumps slightly. Dammit! How does this man appear from nowhere? He flushes, looking over his shoulder. “Thank you.” He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today. _Yesterday too,_ it’s an unwelcome reminder. “Is it okay if we get started?”

“Go ahead.” Calm and collected. Roman occupies the couch, and Seth’s forced to follow his silent command. He lifts off the chair he was occupying to go and join the man. _Bossy ass._ “It’s easier this way—more intimate. Not too much technicality.”

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.”

“The scowl on your face says otherwise.” There’s a lilt in his deep voice. Amusement. At Seth’s expense.

“It is not a scowl.”

“I see…the glasses do make you look somewhat—threatening.” still so amused.

Seth snorts, “Threatening? That’s a first…usually the words I get are prettier, vulnerable, innocent.”

An arched eyebrow, “And that is a bad thing?” despite Roman’s velvety tone, it always sounds so calm—Seth can’t help but feel chided.

“For me, yes.” He maintains the eye contact. “I am not weak.”

“I disagree, Mr. Rollins but—”

“Seth, please call me Seth.” He wants to hear how his name would sound falling off his lips.

“Right…Seth,” _it’s heaven._ Seth hopes his cheeks aren’t betraying him as he grows hot. He wouldn’t mind hearing this man say his name over and over again for an eternity. “Shall we proceed with the interview?”

He’s random. Seth nods frantically. “Sure, um…I’m going to begin now.” Total indifference. It’s unnerving. Seth tries not to stumble too much on his words as he gets the introductions out of the way. “So Roman,” the man’s given him permission to call him by his first name thankfully. “You’re a man who lives an alternative lifestyle—a BDSM lifestyle to be exact. Please tell us, what does BDSM mean?”

“BDSM has become a lot of things. It actually stands for Bondage, Discipline and Sadomasochism. However, it’s also become an overall term for a lot of different, alternative types of play. It encompasses a lot more than just Sadomasochism, Bondage and Discipline.”

“A lot of different expressions—not your common, normal sexual activities?” Seth keeps his mind from straying to last night.

Roman nods, humming melodiously as if pleased. His voice still does thing to Seth. “Yes, exactly. It’s not your common, purist sexual activities. It encompasses fetishes and lots of different ways to sexual play and sexual intimacy that we would have to term alternative—but that’s still just part of the package though. So much of it is more than just sex.”

“How so?”

“Simple really—dominance and submission, stripped to their most basic level, are primarily about the voluntary exchange of power and control. This can take many forms. And just like vanilla relationships, D/s relationships aren’t necessarily all about sex, but about the two people involved. BDSM like vanilla relationships, requires honesty, communication, trust, respect—responsibility. So many nonsexual factors form part of BDSM.”

His voice is…sexy. Hard to describe, but there’s something soothing about it’s calmness. His tone, the way that he’s talking. Those mellifluous tones have Seth shivering inexplicably with a tingling pleasure. Seth clears his throat, “And for someone wanting to dip their toes into the world of BDSM, who could be leaning more towards the dominant route. A natural dominant—” Roman’s dark brow arches again, lips pursing together. What did Seth do wrong? “um, w-what advice would you give them? Maybe an elaborate explanation as to what dominance or a dominant is?”

“What do _you_ think dominance is?”

 _Please stop looking at me._ “I don’t know.”

“Try,” still just as calm, coaxing.

“I know nothing about BDSM, Sir.”

He smiles this time risking Seth a heart attack. “This is a discussion, not an interview. A sharing of knowledge—I might just learn something from you.”   

That silent command again. “I don’t know...dominating someone—fucking them into submission. Someone aggressive, naturally domineering—commands respect, someone strong.” Seth spews whatever comes to mind. “Someone dominant—stronger.” _His_ gaze is solely focused on him, listening intently. Seth struggles against squirming—the attention this man is giving him…like nothing else matters except what Seth to say. It’s disconcerting.

Finally he nods, expression vaguely disappointed. “Thank you for your insights. I want you to consider one thing…aggression does not necessarily equal dominance. Anyone can grab you by your hair, throw you against the wall, on the bed, in a toilet stall and rip your clothing off. They can call you bitch or slut or boy, kitten, little one—the list is endless—and fuck you ‘into submission’. That isn’t dominance—that is rough sex. They can also yell, command or even demand that you obey their every word. That still isn’t true dominance—there’s no such rule that says a ‘natural dominant’ is a _dominant._ True domination is the ability to whisper silently—without even being verbal sometimes—and then observe as the submissive obediently follows the instruction, willingly without hesitance or reservation. It’s the ability to dominate not just her body but her mind too. It’s not achieved by everyone—because that level of trust needs to be earned.”

“How? Through my _actions._ I always say that a dominant is a gentleman--or a lady for females. He is responsible—a leader, parent, sibling, best friend, guider, protector, teacher whose best interests should _always_ be of the submissive. So there is no ‘natural dom,’ at least in the BDSM context. You’re only breeding egotistical, selfish individuals whose purpose is to manipulate innocent men and women who no know better and are unfamiliar about our lifestyle if you say that. We’re more than just rough sex, orders. spankings and ‘demands.’”

He’s so passionate about this. “But no one’s perfect—Doms aren’t superhuman.” The words leave Seth quite sassily, unannounced.

“True. Which is why it’s so important to be in control of yourself first and foremost so that you can control others. But like any relationship, a D/s relationship won’t be perfect. It involves a lot of hard work, trial and errors and failures. A dominant constantly works towards bettering themselves, not just for their good but for the good of the submissive. This is where the responsibility comes in, you can never be a good Dominant if you’re not responsible.”

“Isn’t that a lot of hard work for one person?”

That vaguely disappointed expression again. “For someone who enjoys having a certain sense of responsibility—no. For someone who knows how to put their leadership qualities to good use—no. For someone who gladly provides—no. For someone who enjoys watching the submissive grow, and improve, both as an individual and sub—no. If anything, it’s the responsibility that brings them joy. Their desire to see their submissive grow—in every aspect.”

Seth just barely stops himself from rolling his eyes. “And what about the submissive? What’s their responsibility, to allow the Dom to do all the hard work? I think that’s laziness.” Seth says annoyed.

“That’s your opinion, you’re entitled to it.” How is this man so calm? “However, it is impolite to insult individuals for living their lives differently from yours, don’t you think?”

Seth’s cheeks heat up, “I’m just expressing what I feel.”

“Still impolite, but you’re forgiven—you’re not very knowledgeable on the lifestyle.” Their gazes hold, those different eyes affecting Seth unlike anything else. He blushes, letting out a small breath. “A submissive is not ‘lazy’ Seth. They are the perfect counterbalance to the Dominant. The sub needs structure, rules, to feel wanted and cherished, to be taken care of. And the Dominant desires to provide them with that. It’s a win-win situation in which the relationship is fulfilling to both individuals. Theirs, is a relationship even healthier than your typical vanilla relationship. There’s room for honesty, and communication without the fear of being judged or ridiculed.”

“What drew you to the lifestyle?” It isn’t on Bayley’s list of questions but Seth is curious.

“Responsibility—for another individual, for myself. Domination particularly because I’m constantly pushing myself to be better than I was yesterday, a few hours ago, minutes ago. And with that betterment, I want to empower the next person.”

“What about work, your associates?”

“What about them?” He's amused.

“Don't they feel uncomfortable? I mean you're publicly known to practice BDSM. Are they okay with being associated with someone like you?”

He blinks. “Someone like me?”

Shit, this bastard's not making things easy for him. “Kinkster.” Another flush, Seth can't help it.

“It's none of their business—that's the first thing. Secondly, I do business with mature businessmen and women, Mr. Rollins. They are not interested in knowing what I do with my private time. I think the world would be a better place if everyone thought like that.”

Seth can’t help but agree with him there. “Okay, um, and sadomasochism?” he swallows harshly, not liking the topic they’re venturing in.

“What about sadomasochism?”

Jerk. “Abuse. It’s abuse, isn't?” shouldn’t it be obvious. “Like that flogging thing you were doing last night. Why would you want to hurt someone like that?” Yes, he’s a hypocrite—the whole thing was strangely arousing but he’s returned to his senses.

“Well I guess I should probably go report myself to the police after this.” Perfectly white teeth are revealed, giving Seth breathing problems. He moves around the couch, futilely trying to be put off by Roman’s steady gaze. The attention this man gives you—it would be enough to trick you into thinking he has feelings for you. “A sadist is the perfect counterbalance to a masochist, Mr. Rollins. Since many subs are also masochists, then a sadist Dom will fit perfectly. They complement each other. As long as the sadist’s primary motivation is to give the submissive what they need. Besides, by whose standards is it deemed abuse? A lot of people who say things like that haven't the slightest understanding about BDSM.”

“I just don’t get why someone would find it pleasurable to hurt someone. Or why the submissive would even allow it—something that brings nothing but pain and cold be dangerous too.”

“I hate rollercoasters and mountain climbing—any extreme sports, really. I’m from Samoa, but I get terrified of the ocean sometimes. To me, those are scary things and I can’t begin to fathom how people risk their lives by bungee jumping and sky diving and drag racing.” All through this interview/discussion, Seth has been trying to keep his eyes from straying to his hands. But he can’t stop himself from looking at them. His deeply textured skin against the crisp white cotton of his cuffs. His mind goes back to last night, when they were around Paige’s neck. He wonders how they would feel against his feverish skin. Seth’s entire body burns scarlet, his body muscles clenching in delicious agony.

“Are you listening, Mr. Rollins?” Seth begins to shake his head, swiftly changing to a frantic nod. His hands are fucking shaking, and dammit—there’s a bead of sweat clinging to his forehead. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“I’m fine, Sir.” Seth tries to swallow, clearing his throat hard and forcing his mind out of the gutter—it’s a fail.

“Please, I insist.” The bastard says in his calm voice.

“But—”

“Are you hungry? I’ll have Tyler bring you something to eat.” He’s already walking to the door. “We’ll resume in thirty minutes.”

What the hell?

Seth blinks rapidly. The audacity of that Greek god bastard! _I’m not your fucking submissive._ Seth bites his lip, shaking his head in disbelief. He gazes out the window—trying to regain his composure. He’s almost successful but when he lands on the transparent vase with a lone rose sat at the long table his mind immediately goes to the gutter again. That rose… _is it possible?_

Shivering, Seth hugs his waist tightly, trying not to think that this man would do that. But a part of him suspects that would. _How gentlemanly of him._ He’s unable to finish the light, ridiculously healthy breakfast that Tyler brings him. And his mind is still trapped in the gutter when _he_ returns.

“That’s not right,” the man frowns down at him. “You’re still flustered. What’s wrong?”

 _You._ “Nothing, I’m just feeling really hot.”

“I’ll adjust the AC. Better?”

 _No._ “Much better. Can we get back to the inter-um, discussion?”

“Yes. I was saying, Seth that extreme sports terrify me. I’m a very simple man—and so unsure why anyone in their right state of mind would pursue such risks. It’s quite the same with sadomasochism. People who participate in it are chasing the endorphin rush—it gives them a high, creating a euphoric thrill. I, personally, think it’s even safer than the other ‘dangerous’ activities humans partake in. It’s all negotiated and a good Sadist will always put the masochist first—and stop all forms of play should the masochist so wish.”

“Would you consider yourself a sadist?” Again it’s not in Bayley's question but Seth has to know.

 _He_ leans back against the couch, crossing his legs and nailing Seth with a penetrating gaze. “Like masochists, sadists differ. Am I sexual sadist? Yes, quite frankly I am. I only desire to hurt you in pleasurable ways even you didn’t know existed, Seth.”

That feels personal somehow—the bastard said his name and shit. Seth squirms, he can’t help it this time. His heart’s on the verge of exploding, entire body aflame.

“Another break perhaps?” This calm bastard. He has a small smile.

“It hasn’t been five minutes.” Seth snaps.

The smile widens, “The AC then? You’re very flustered.”

 _Because of you._ This jerk. “No, I’m sure I’ll cool down all on my own… _Master._ ” Different eyes flare briefly. He’s affected. Good.

“If you are sure, little fox.”

Little fox? Seth flushes bright red. He’s trying to discourage his belly from fluttering but dammit…the butterflies flap in the most delicious way. Mildly recovered, the discussion-interview continues for fifteen more minutes before they are done. “Thank you so much,” Seth whispers after he’s packed his equipment.

An extended hand, Seth accepts. Desire sends inexplicable tingles throughout his entire body. “The pleasure was all mine, Seth.” Shaking hands shouldn’t take this long. And fucking hell, Seth wants to hear his name roll off this man’s mouth forever.

Reluctantly, Seth pulls his hand away looking into this ethereal man’s burning obsidian and silver coals. He gets caught in a daze, futilely willing his feet to start moving. They resist. Seth stands in place for what feels like forever, looking at the unperturbed god in front of him. Surely he feels the unusual energy exchange between them to. _Do you do one night stands?_ Seth questions desperately inwardly.

“Shall I see you out?” his voice is deeper somehow—ragged.

“No.” Seth shakes his head rooted to one place.

A hand settles at the small of his back. “Come, I can see that fluster has rendered you immobile.” Calm, collected again. This bastard! “Did you know that a hummingbird’s heart beats 500 times a minute? Or that it can fly backwards?”

Random much? Seth blinks rapidly, unsure if he’s heard right. Where is the question coming from? “No.” he shakes his head. “No, I didn’t.” _But you do make my heart beat just as fast._

“Ah, so other than the BDSM—you’ve learned something else. I hope you’ll return the favor the next time we meet.”

Will there be a next time? Seth has no idea but he’s hoping that there will be. This morning he was hoping differently but what harm could one last time do? “Your cronies—will they allow me inside the club next time? I mean, now that the inter—the discussion is over?”

“You’re free to come anytime you want to.”

Seth nods his head. “Well...I guess—”

“And I like the glasses, Mr. Rollins—despite what you think, they really do make you look threatening. The vulnerability and beauty...well, I think you achieve that with or without them. You were just as ‘pretty’ and ‘innocent-looking’ last night.

 _Heart failure_.

For a long time, Seth remains dumfounded in this gorgeous man's lobby, whose gaze burns with honesty. _You're dangerous._ And still that attention that makes Seth feel like he’s the only boy in the world. _Say something Rollins._ “Thanks, hot stuff.” Don’t ask him what comes over him but he leans up to kiss the Greek god’s cheek—briefly feeling prickly stubble deliciously poke his lips. “And next time, I wouldn't mind being the one drenching that rose for you.”

Roman’s groan snaps him out of it. Seth's eyes widen afterwards, connecting with a burning gaze before deciding to make a dash for it. His feet can’t run fast enough. “What the fuck, Seth?” He chides himself outside the club’s doors. His heart is pounding, body twitching terribly. “Relax, you don’t have to come here again.” Yeah, yeah. He nods to himself. It was just a stupid ‘caught in the moment’ thing. Thankfully it’s over. He won’t have to see _him_ again. Despite his disappointment at the prospect of not coming to the club again, he won’t allow himself embarrassment. Rather stay away. Besides, the man is _dangerous._ And Seth doesn’t do _his_ kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's been a VERY long while, I'm sorry. I was just trying to complete my first story and it's finally done so I can work on this. I think this is going to be dark somewhere, somehow. There's a trigger warning here for self harm. Please note, TRIGGER WARNING!

You ever notice how when you start ‘crushing’ on someone it feels like you’re seeing them everywhere, all the time? Almost as if destiny is purposely leading you to this person? Or taunting you really because when you see said crush, weird things start to happen to your body—like sweaty palms, butterfly sensations in your belly that only happen when you see or think of this person, and then there’s the unstoppable heat that crawls inside your skin when you hear their voice—and the abnormal change in breathing, how it quickens, mimicking your rapidly increasing heartrate.

The last time Seth can say he genuinely felt that way was in the seventh grade when he was attracted to his childhood best friend, Marek Brave—it wasn’t this intense or persistent but he still _hated_ it. Feelings while beautiful—well, he doesn’t really care much for them—can be a great inconvenience. You’re feeling all these weird things and your body’s behaving strangely around this specific person that you’re finding hard not to repeatedly look like a fool in front of them but you can’t help it because you’re overthinking everything, and trying to be cool which fails in the end because you’re trying too hard.

Right now, Seth’s still trying to decide whether or not to be grateful that with his latest crush (an offensive thing to admit, he doesn’t do crushes), there is no opportunity to reveal his dorkiness. The last time he saw Roman in person was nearly three weeks ago, when they had the interview. Seth hasn’t attempted to go back to Elysium. He knows why but admitting is not an option, not now.

Roman hasn’t been to the club since that interview, too. How does Seth know this? Dean, for one. It’s almost always easy to manipulate any information out of Dean—discreetly, of course. All you have to do is nudge him in the right direction and he’ll sing like an informant in prison. Two, the media seems taken by Roman’s natural charm too. Seth isn’t even joking, he’s seen Roman’s face gracing three business magazines. He’d looked so _breathtakingly beautiful_ that Seth couldn’t resist buying all three publications never mind that Roman’s wearing the same suit in all three, meaning that the pictures were probably found online.

He remembers Bayley’s confusion when she saw the magazines on his study desk. “Research,” he’d told her, just barely stopping himself from explaining further. He didn’t want her to know, and still doesn’t. Self-proclaimed ‘aromantic’ and here he is, buying stupid magazines filled with content he doesn’t even understand because they featured a guy he’s massively attracted to—and has sexually nasty dreams about that always result in awkward mornings because...wet dreams. It’s frustrating as hell.

“Fuck, his eyes are enticing. I’ve never seen a person with two-colored eyes before. I must admit, I like his grey one more, it screams... _mysterious._ ” Seth hears a squeaky voice mutter behind him. Naturally, his heartrate starts to quicken, there’s only one person on this fucking earth that he knows has different colored eyes, and for some reason he knows, there’s no way in hell that the people sat behind him aren’t talking about—

“It’s called heterochromia iridium, Sally.” Another voice—deeper, belonging to a guy—scoffs. “And I think he’s wearing contacts.”

“They’re not contacts!” Seth glances over his shoulder, momentarily forgetting that this is a library, his voice had sounded as loud and squeaky as the short, nerdy looking girl’s did a few seconds ago. His skin heats up as they glance at him with surprised faces. _Shit._ “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you’re both just very loud.”

The guy—he’s very gangly, with fiery red hair and glasses that are falling on his nose—scoffs again. “I’d say you were rude were you not making a semi-valid statement.  I am _not_ the loud one, my friend here is. She’s writing a thesis about the relationship between consistency and success. She chose to write about this guy to back up her theories, he’s the perfect example. But she ain’t being consistent herself—now, it’s all about this guy’s hotness factor and ‘Daddyness’.”

“I mean she’s not wrong, he is hot.” Seth replies, ignoring the boy’s confusion...that quickly morphs into discomfort. He shifts around his seat a few times and clears his throat but says nothing. The two were looking at one of the business magazines that Seth himself bought. His gaze briefly flickers to the page, and he’s blinded by Roman’s beauty again. _Damn, this is so unfair._ No guy is allowed to be that gorgeous. “I like the brown better. There’s something infinitely inviting about it—and warm. Like maybe a warm blanket on a cold winter’s night?”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. See, Raymond...everyone’s attracted to him. So you don’t blame for being obsessed.”

“Um...” Seth blinks, speechless. _What the fuck did you say?_ Great, he probably looks like a lovesick puppy, too. _Ugh, Rollins._ Could he be anymore sappier? “I gotta leave, it was nice talking to you.” Standing, he hastily puts his study material back inside his bag. He’ll do it at home, hopefully Bayley’s done having her crazy sex session with Sasha. Sasha’s her girlfriend, they’ve been together for just over a year—and she’s real cool. “Did you know that he’s like a Dom? He’s into that BDSM shit. I got to interview him a few weeks ago, you should check it out on my friend’s channel—DIFFERENT. He’s very interesting.”

Sally starts to squeal and Seth stares, embarrassed. The librarian will come soon if she keeps this up. “Sorry, sorry.” She whispers once recovered. “Yeah, I know he’s a Dom. I’ve been unsuccessfully going to the club hoping to catch a glimpse but dang is he a hard man to track. And I’m not a member of course so I can’t even go to the other places. I just want to see one session, like just one, and I can die happily.”

Raymond snorts, he says nothing. Seth is starting to think that maybe the poor fellow is pining after his friend. This is a cliché he’s seen so many times. Guy falls in love with his girl best friend who happens to be completely oblivious and is infatuated with someone else.

“I’ll see you guys around,” he slings his bag over his shoulder. “By the way, Sal, if I were you I’d go for the guy right next to you. Roman’s unobtainable, trust me, I know.” Well not really, but this is a guy who has sex two-three times a year. Seth himself doesn’t think he stands a chance, and he knows for a fact that this girl wouldn’t either. She’s never even met him face to face.

“Uh...thanks. Your name again?”

“Seth.”

“Right...but Ray’s gay.”

_Oh...oh._

So maybe he’s attracted to Roman too, then? With the way he’s behaving, Seth wouldn’t be surprised. A classic case of ‘hide your attraction through criticism’. Damn... Seth thought everyone left these habits in high school, but clearly not.

“That’s great. Hopefully both of you find guys like him, right?” he nods toward Roman’s picture. Sally giggles, Ray’s cheeks heat up. Oh, he’s definitely attracted to Roman too. “Maybe join his club, there’s plenty of hot men.”

“Who knows? Maybe I might...” Sally looks pleased with herself. “And you’re coming with, Ray.”

Raymond breathes an annoyed, “Like I ever have a choice.”

“I’ll see you two around.” Seth smiles, these two are bickering like children. He passes the librarian who’s on her way to their loud table. Thank fuck he escaped in time.

*****

“Honey, I’m home!” Seth shouts as soon as he enters his apartment. He drops his bag on the couch, allowing the salacious smells of something cooking to guide him to the kitchen. AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ blasts off the walls with Bayley and her girlfriend rocking out to the song like a bunch of freakish teenagers. Seth only clears his throat when they begin sucking each other’s lips off. “What’s for dinner?”

Both women jump.

“Bambi!” Bayley squashes him into one of her bear hugs. It lasts for three seconds. Yes, Seth counts—anything longer than five seconds and he’ll freak out. Bayley knows this, although she doesn’t know why, she’s respectful enough to respect his orders. “You’re back earlier than expected.”

Oh yes, on his way here, his first pitstop should’ve been at a fuck buddy’s place but the guy’s friends came over and he cancelled...jerk!

“Austin bailed on me,” Seth shrugs coolly. He grabs a carrot from the counter, laughing as it earns him a scowl from Sasha. “Sorry, babe. Anyway, I guess my hands will do all the work tonight.”

It’s Bayley who scowls this time while Sasha breaks out in loud laughter. “You mean to tell me that out of the wide range of fuck buddies just a dial away and you’re going to fuck yourself? Or maybe Austin has you hooked?”

Seth makes a disgusted sound. “Oh please...Theory? Having who hooked? I just crave different foods different nights. Today, I was craving some beefy meatiness. I had chicken yesterday, can’t have it on a daily basis.”

Bayley rolls her eyes. “Who’s the chicken?”

“Adam,” a naughty grin from Seth. “He’s pretty good chicken.”

“You’re such a slut!”

“Never a bad thing for a kid my age. It’s called exploring, babe.” A wink to a snickering Bayley. “How long til the food’s done?”

“Fifteen minutes.”

“Great,” Seth jumps off his stool. “Let me go shower quickly.”

“Ten minutes, Bambi. Later than that and you’re eating the scraps like the bitch you are.”

“Haha, very funny!”

Dinner is eaten in the living room, accompanied by a good horror movie and rapid giggling from both Sasha and Bayley. These two are the only ones Seth knows (besides Dean) who really enjoy watching people chopped up and dying in a nasty, gory manner. On his side, he prefers paranormal horror like Annabelle and Poltergeist. Gory films are too easy, at least you can escape whoever’s trying to kill you. What do you do when it’s something you can’t see that’s after you?

It’s nearly midnight by the time they are finished with the films. Seth tells Bayley to go to bed, he’ll do the dishes. It’s the least he can do seeing as whenever it’s his turn to cook, he somehow causes both himself and Bayley to have some sort of food poisoning.

Seth falls on his bed thirty minutes later. He’s naked, and his hands get to work. Grey and brown eyes are his point of focus as he pleasures himself. Thighs splayed wide open, his hands tease and stroke his dick, but his hole is twitching in need also, and it’s pure torture. Seth shifts around until he finds a position in which he can penetrate himself. He’s panting, moaning, “Daddy, please...” he has no idea what he’s pleading for but he’s going faster, rock hard dick leaking white liquid.

Impure thoughts flog his mind, Roman’s hands on his ass. Roman’s large hands around his throat, squeezing enough to make him dizzy. Roman’s hands gripping his hair. He touches himself in tune to every sinful act he imagines done to him. _Fuck me harder. I don’t want to walk straight tomorrow._ He’s beseeching, eyelids heavy, and breathing ragged. Viciously and faster he strokes until he comes with a hoarse, “Fuck, Ro...Ro...Roman!” and then he stills until finally he collapses on the bed.

Seth blinks in the darkness, trying hard to ignore the ominous feeling squeezing his lungs. Too tired to clean himself up, he grabs the large pillows, squeezing them to his chest and closing his eyes while waiting for sleep to come.  

_They’re shouting again._

_Seth cranks the volume of the speakers up, not that it helps. The penetrating voices always overpower everything else, he thinks they’re the reason that the walls have some cracks in them. He tries to tune out the voices, their negativity. He buries himself in his books for exactly twenty minutes until eventually earsplitting clangs force him to stop. No doubt, plates are being thrown around, the same plates that will need to be replaced, resulting in more fighting and more noise. He just can’t ever catch a break._

_The sound of clatter seems to last forever before finally a terrifying bang. The front door. Seth is undecided on whether or not to go out to assess the damage. How much will he have to repair this time?_

_Not enough mental strength. Right now, he decides he won’t face what’s waiting just outside his room. Going to the bathroom, he finds the hidden razor beneath his towels. This is not a good idea but he just wants to get rid of everything. The thin razor slices into his skin. A sigh. An escape. Finally._

A distressed sob draws Seth out of slumber.

Seth jumps upright, scurrying backwards until his back hits the headboard and making himself as small as possible. He’s caked with sweat, it chills his inflamed body. His heart is pounding hard, threatening to beat right out of his chest. _It was just a dream. Just a dream. Just a—_

_What are you looking at you pathetic piece of garbage?_

_Shit!_

His eyes snap open, and Seth bites his fist hard enough that his sharp teeth are digging into his skin, clawing and drawing blood. He tries to push away the voices, they only add to his uneasiness. Intimidated by the darkness, and how the menacing shadows taunt his fragility, wanting to break him, like they always do.

Seth shakily turns the bedside lamp on. He takes a couple of deep steadying breaths, and makes his escape to the bathroom. He’s fucking sweating, and feels like he’s been locked in a damn sauna. Rinsing his face with cold water, he then focuses on the mirror, trying for a grin that looks lifeless, like a withering a flower. The comparison makes him shudder with fear. No, no, that needs to be rectified.

He opens the cabinet, finding his razor inside. _You can’t do this again._ He grabs it, and then throws it back inside the cabinet as if it were burning him. _You promised._ A small voice mutters in his ear but what harm will doing it one final time do? _Just this once,_ he reasons with the voice before shutting it down completely. He already feels like a ton of bricks are being stuffed down his throat, he refuses to acknowledge the negative emotions.

They transition into distant ghosts, the negative emotions. Once the razor into slices his skin, it’s ecstasy. Seth watches the blood drip down his arm, transfixed by it’s richness against his pale arm. Another slice, and then another one, and finally two more and the razor lands with a clank inside the sink. Seth falls to the ground, staring into space.

Momentary highs are never fulfilling because eventually you’re drawn back to the painful reality of what you were trying to escape. For Seth, it comes with uncontrollable sobs. He feels like shit, like something’s missing but exhausted too, like heavy bricks are weighing down on him. A tremulous sigh, eyes dart around the bathroom. He’s naming the different countries in the different continents. After he’s done North America, he’s doing South America, and then he moves onto Europe, and then Asia. _Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, China...Japan._ He has no idea when he falls asleep.

* * *

 

The headache hasn’t disappeared come morning. He notices the blood on his body, momentarily suffers a panic attack as he tries to remember what happened and—

_Shit._

_Clean the evidence!_

Seth bolts to his feet, wincing as pain shoots through his left arm. He ignores it, finding a towel to clean the little blood splatters on the floor and then the sink. He returns the razor to the cabinet, cleans the sink twice with bleach and then rushes inside the bathroom. Submerging himself in warm water, he stares blankly at the ceiling. He still doesn’t feel too good about himself, with the guilt tearing his soul apart the most. It feels like the dark shadows have snaked their way inside, and leaving no door unopened—they dance inside, tainting the little light he has left.

Seth allows it, he doesn’t have the energy to fight. He’s so exhausted today, and wants to sleep in, he doesn’t have classes on Wednesdays after all but he won’t do it. Sleeping when he’s already out of it always puts him in funk, one that always requires plenty of effort to come out of. He doesn’t think he has the mental capacity right this moment. The only thing left to do is exercise. Yes, he’ll go jogging or have sex. No. He sighs. Sex in his mood won’t do him no good. He won’t be an active participant. Most likely he’ll lie on the bed like a dead chicken and just take it. So exercise it is and thereafter he’ll bury himself in his books. He should really consider getting a job though...

He looks like a million bucks as he goes to the living room where he finds Bayley perched on the couch, her laptop resting on her thighs. Her brows are scrunched together, she looks hard at work honestly. Seth is almost scared to interrupt her. Bayley saves him from having to do so by shifting her attention to him. “Oh, babe. What’s with the long sweater? You’re going jogging?”

“Yup,” _smile, Rollins. Smile like you’ve never smiled before._ “And this old thing? I just don’t want all those guys to feel threatened by these bad boys...” He flexes his arms. “Guys don’t fuck guys who they feel threatened by. I gotta look out for my dick.”

Bayley scowls and then guffaws loudly. “You’re some sort of sex addict. If only your aunt knew the things you get up to when you’re here.”

“Lucky for me she’s not here to find out, is she?” he winks, sashaying to the kitchen to drink some water before grabbing his keys off the rack and heading out. He puts on his headphones and blasts Black Mascara loudly while greeting the security guard at the foyer on his way out.

An hour later and he’s back. Bayley is gone, she has classes until five. Opening the fridge, Seth finds a Dagwood sandwich wrapped beautifully waiting for him. On it is a stupid note by Bayley, it says she doesn’t want him to die by his own hand...food poisoning. She can be so stupid when she puts in an effort. Seth smiles all the while crushing the note and grabbing his food.

For about thirty minutes, he mindlessly watches the TV until he can’t stand himself. He decides to call his aunt, the one that Bayley was talking about. Stephanie (well Seth calls her aunt Steph) lives in Georgia with her three teenage daughters. She’s a single mother and Seth himself went to live with her when he was doing his senior year, after his mother passed on. She’s real cool, and although Seth hadn’t been used to her much before he went to stay with her they quickly became close because of their shared love for academics. She’s the strongest person that Seth knows.

“How’s Miami treating you, Sethory? Everything all right with you?”

Seth nods, although she can’t see him. “All’s well with me, aunt Steph. I’ve been acing my assignments, and I’m studying real hard for my exams. But I’m going out of my mind from boredom. I’m home alone right now, I think it would be better if I got a job.”

“A...job?” her surprise is so evident. “Why would you need a job? Are you strapped for cash? I can always make a—”

“No, no, aunt Steph, it’s not that. I was thinking a job to maybe pass the time. I, sometimes I think I’ve too much time on my hands.”

A pause. Seth wonders if he’s revealed too much.

“You’re doing enough but I won’t stop you. If you’re wanting a job for the right reasons.”

“I am.” Another comfortable pause before Seth reveals softly, “I miss you. Three days is aa really long time to not hear your voice.”—a laugh on the other line, he releases his own weak one. “It’s true. I just miss you. How are the girls?”

“Alright, they think they’re so big now, especially Kaelynn—she thinks her boob growth has earned her the right to stay out way past her curfew time. I’m sure she’s told you she’s grounded.”

“Not in those words exactly. It was more along the lines of ‘OMG, Sethory, mom’s gone completely insane. She is ruining my life!’”

Aunt Steph’s amusement is palpable—it touches Seth’s ear warmly. “Teenagers. They’re so immature.”

“I take offense to that. I’m a teenager too you know.”

“And I dread knowing what it is you’re up to there. You should’ve stayed in Georgia, there are plenty of good colleges here.”

“I needed a change. Change is good.”

“Maybe you’re right. So before I go, I want to know...met any new boys recently?”

Seth laughs, aunt Steph always asks this. And his friends accuse him of being boy crazy...

* * *

 

On Friday, right after his last class, Dean tells him they’re going to a ‘munch’ to meet his most interesting friends. Seth isn’t even allowed to go to his apartment, heading straight to Dean’s instead. Thankfully, Dean allows him his bathroom to freshen up.

“What is a munch again?” Seth scans Dean’s drawers. He’s said it before, since Dean joined the lifestyle, he’s become more trendier. Seth doesn’t know which item to choose.

“A casual meeting for like BDSM individuals, it’s like a fun meetup where we gossip about the Doms.”

Seth pulls on some grey skinny jeans, looks over his shoulder and laughs. “Really?”

“Well for us,” Dean shrugs, he’s running his fingers through his cropped hair. “But a munch is exactly what I said, a place, usually a restaurant where people who’re into the lifestyle meet up and just have fun and talk about any and everything BDSM, it’s all really casual though.”

“I see...so this specific one won’t have the Doms?”

“No, it’s our own little thing. But word around the club is Master Roman’s returning from Germany next week and he’ll host one at one of his restaurants. But then they also said that the last time and it turned out to be a lie.”

A flush, automatically. Dammit! Seth’s heart jumps straight to his mouth, and dang it, the butterflies follow. _He’s not even here and...this._ A scowl, Seth busies himself with fixing his hair while Dean continues without a care in the world.

“—New Year’s party though. That was fucking epic! But I nearly ran broke that night so this year I started saving early. Hopefully he’ll have another scene like the one he had on New Year’s. Damn Seth, you should’ve seen it. He had Tyler hanging from the ceiling with gorgeous rope, it was very artistic. I think I know why he loves using Tyler—”

“All done!” Seth won’t hear of the blond twink any longer. He doesn’t like that guy, there’s just something about him, he’s too snobby. But maybe Roman’s like him too, with all his wealth? The thought causes Seth to frown. “Won’t your friends judge me for joining? I’m not into BDSM.”

“As long as you’re not kink shaming or doing that judgmental thing with your eyelids.”

Seth smirks. “I promise to behave, Daddy-o.”

Dean smacks his arm, “Look at you. Come, Lady Diana awaits!”

Nooo.

Seth hates old rusty so much. Why can’t they ever hire an Uber?

“I should really get a job,” he sighs exaggeratedly, much to Dean’s confusion.

*****

The munch location is a trendy restaurant on Lincoln road. There are already about five people sat at the table that Dean leads them to. They all look young, and it’s four guys and one female. Seth notes with relief that that Tyler twink isn’t here. Yes, he doesn’t like the kid, so what?

“Deano,” one of the guys gets up to hug Dean, Seth remembers him from Elysium. He’s the attractive barman: Ricochet. Seth only remembers his name cause it made him snort to himself. “And this must be Seth. Hi, I’m really happy to meet you, man. Name’s Ricochet.”

“Yeah, I’m Seth. Nice to meet you too.”

Thankfully, Dean helps get the rest of the introductions out of the way. Seth memorizes all their names. Cedric, Velveteen, Humberto, Ricochet and then finally Mandy. Seth remembers Dean telling him that Roman plays with Mandy sometimes. She’s attractive as hell. He sees why Roman would play with her. An attractive ass man attracts nothing but beauty.

“Where is Xavier?” Humberto asks, he’s also extremely beautiful, so young looking. He doesn’t look a day over sixteen which would be weird had he not said he’s actually twenty-three when Seth asked him. Yes, Seth asked. He doesn’t want to be part of any child trafficking rings or shit like that. Okay, he’s probably exaggerating...now that he thinks about it.

“Don’t look at me,” Dean shrugs, waving a waitron over.

“Master Randy sent him on some errands, for their scene tonight.”

Humberto claps his hands like a little child, “Aye, I’m excited.”

“Fire play?” Mandy asks.

“Yup.” Velveteen nods, he removes his sunglasses. “Nothing but artistic beauty. After Master Roman, Master Randy’s probably like the most appealing. He’s so fucking capable, I’d let him split me in half—and I’m not even into the sadistic shit he puts Xavier through.”

“Wait, so Xavier and his, um, Master?” a nod from Humberto. Dean on the other hand looks skeptical, like he’s praying Seth won’t embarrass him. Seth bites his lip to prevent from laughing. Poor Dean. “They’re like sadist and masochist?”

“Yuuup!” Velveteen has a flamboyancy about him that reminds Seth of that Tyler twink but at least he’s not hopping on Roman’s dick...or is he?

“I—okay. And your head Master, what about him?”

“I mean maybe he is but usually he just does extreme scenes when he’s hosting classes to any tops and bottoms who’re into scenes things like that. When was his last class?”

“Six months ago, with Master Drew.” Humberto responds to Velveteen’s question.

“How does that work? Master against Master?”

“The club is Master Roman’s. He’s head Dom and then Mistress Nikki. Whenever Master Roman’s hosting sadomasochism classes, let’s just say, they can get really intense and extreme. He wants to mentally prepare both the top and the submissive into the makings of sadomasochism dynamics. It’s not just limited to like edge play, but the mental aspect of things as well. How to ensure that everyone is fulfilled. But on the physical side of things, he usually uses someone with a high pain tolerance. Like Master Drew. He takes pain like nothing else, sometimes he’ll even laugh—it’s so weird. He’s being caned to the point of bleeding and the only thing he says is, ‘Whew, that was really good!’ and I’m like wait...that’s it?” Humberto giggles.  

“Wow!”

“Like I said, it’s just for classes. I don’t really think he’s a sadist. But even if he is he’s still the kindest Dom in the club, he’ll talk to you before issuing punishments. He’s the most calm Dom in the club too, I don’t even know what pisses him off because he’s laid back. I swear you’d think he doesn’t even own the club. There are more intense Masters, like Xavier’s Master and Master Drew and Master Roman’s cousins—they can get pretty intense too. Master Roman’s a sexual sadist more than anything. He’ll use sex to drive you wild in the most torturous but pleasurable way.”

“How do you know this?” Dean narrows his eyes on Humberto.

“What?” Humberto giggles again.

“Master Roman’s sexual prowess?”

“I’ve played with him, duh!”

Seth nearly spits his juice. Has that gorgeous bastard of a man slept with everything walking on two legs on this earth?

“Oh...” Dean seems surprised. “Lucky you, hopefully I’ll get the opportunity soon.”

“If he doesn’t claim Tyler.” Ricochet pipes in.

“We’ll negotiate,” Dean dismisses him easily. “And this one forgot to mention your Master. He’s so fucking intense it’s bordering on insanity.” Blue eyes gleam wickedly as they focus on Ricochet.

“Nothing I can’t handle. We have an understanding, Aleister and I.”

“It took a long ass time for both of you to get there. I remember when he could barely looking at you without glaring.” Velveteen says.

Ricochet smiles, but his eyes are glossy. “I’d take that glare any day. It means that he _feels_ something. When it was just indifference, I swear I felt like dying. I didn’t know what he wanted from me.”

“You deserve each other.”

Ricochet nods, perfect white teeth glinting. He’s so gorgeous, Seth can’t help but notice. “Like you deserve Master Drew?”

Cedric rolls his eyes, “Don’t tease me, please. I can’t even get him to concentrate on me longer than five minutes.”

“That’s not what I’ve been hearing though. Aleister thinks he’s quite taken with you. Master Drew never plays with the same submissive twice and how many times has he played with you again?”

“Over ten scenes they’ve had together.” Mandy smiles like she knows something. “And you both went hiking last weekend.”

“And why didn’t we know about that?” Ricochet glares, looking Cedric up and down.

“Because...!” Cedric hides his face.

Seth laughs as Cedric’s friends continue teasing him mercilessly. This is...different. A good different. Besides their kinks, these people almost seem...normal. A very different but fun group that he wouldn’t mind getting to know better. There’s a light about them that he welcomes into his soul, it’s been a while since fresh air ghosted all over his dusty walls. With each second he spends conversing with them, the shadows lose their power. It’s a welcome feeling.

“Do you want to go to the club with us? We’ll speak to the guards, I’m sure you’ll be able to watch Master Randy’s scene.”

Seth won’t tell them that Roman said he’s welcome whenever. “I’d love to,” he smiles widely, surprising Dean in the process.

* * *

 

Seth hates house parties. They’re always so stuffy, overcrowded and loud. He only came here because he got roped in by Austin who—after their very wild fuck session—coerced him into coming. The same Austin’s who’s fucking disappeared on him. Seth blames himself honestly...Austin Theory’s the biggest jerk he knows and he should’ve known better but Austin’s words taste like silver. You can’t help but believe him, even when his ugliness shows. He’s just one of those guys...a real bad guy. It’s a good thing Seth doesn’t do the ‘catch feelings’ thing, he’d be in so much trouble now.  

A message to Bayley requesting that she fetch him gets an immediate reply. She’s coming with Sasha. They come to rescue him not even fifteen minutes later...well not really. The thing with college parties is anyone can join in and have some fun. Seth learns with great annoyance that his friends want to party a bit before they leave.

Seth gives in, at least he’s with the people he knows now, unlike before when he no doubt looked like a lost lamb. Six cheap beers in his system and Seth starts to feel funny. He’s dirty with another guy who looks like Austin but not really. And he giggles, feeling the room spin around in circles. “Boy, you spin my world around.” A whisper to the guy’s lips before he joins their lips in a heady kiss.

“Seth, Christ! A couple of drinks and you’re already behaving so stupid!” Seth only hears that voice because it bellows, sounding loud as fuck above Genitorturer’s  ‘Touch Myself’. He giggles loudly, one day, he wouldn’t mind Roman fucking him to this song. The problem is how will he get Roman to even notice him? He’s barely in Miami for longer than three days. It’s been over a month now.

“Ow, hey!” he winces, lone tear falling as Bayley’s small hand drags him away from the guy he was dancing with. Bayley is mega strong, like Iron Man clutching you strong.

Bayley smacks him upside the head. “Dumbass. You’re not going to have sex while you’re like this.”

“Who said anything about sex?”

“You were shoving your ass into that guy’s dick! And you were sharing your fucking spit with him. You know the rules. Safe, sober sex. I’ll strangle you, Seth!”

“Kinky...” Seth giggles, and then he bounces up and down, gripping the front of his jeans. “I gotta use the bathroom.”

Bayley looks him up and down as if she doesn’t trust him. “Come back soon, I’ll wait near the door. Don’t beat your meat in there.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Seth tilts back, staggering to the bathroom. A flock of busybodies flood the exit, and it’s almost impossible to maneuver around them. Seth is sweating like he was running a damn marathon by the time he leaves the loud house. He remembers Bayley gave him an instruction, she said something but for the life of him, he just doesn’t remember. Oh well...he better get home. What street is this again?

Seth walks the first street, then the second and then another one. He turns a corner, jumps another street and then takes a left turn. Where is he? He’s not sure but maybe somewhere safe, because everyone is walking on this street, although they are giving him strange looks. He doesn’t try to decipher the cryptic stares, walking forward until a luxurious car parked near an elegant high-rise building stops him in his tracks. Well, he’s really struggling to stand in one place without falling to the ground.

The air is snatched from Seth’s lungs, forcing him to massage his neck in gentle movements, he’s fighting for air as if he were being strangled.

 _Roman_...

Maybe Seth’s eyes are deceiving him, he was seeing double not too long ago after all. Rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, he blinks again at the sight before him. _Holy fuck._ It is _him._  It’s actually him. Looking more gorgeous than Seth remembers him. A crisp white shirt with no rumple in sight, and slacks with a crease so sharp it could slice you. Not one single thing about him is out of place. He’s a man in control.

Seth almost calls out to him, he actually tries a few times but his mouth feels weird, numb and he can’t conjure up a single word. So he stands stupidly while watching Roman go to the other side of his car—it’s an SUV actually, a fucking _Rolls Royce—_ and open the passenger side. He steps back, one arm folded behind his back, posture straight, screaming so much confidence, and holds his right hand out to whoever was in the car with him.

_Tyler._

Immediate heart failure—and not in a good way. Seth doesn’t even know why he’s affected to be honest. This is a guy he’s only met _twice_ , and hasn’t seen in over a month. He shouldn’t care, he shouldn’t. _Walk on home, Rollins._ He tries but his fucking feet are rooted in one place. Like something out of a bad rom-com, he stares as Roman’s hand settles on the small of Tyler’s back—a silent, confident claim. Tyler is even wearing Roman’s suit jacket, it’s massive on him but so perfect, like the blond punk looks in the arms of a man as good looking as Roman. Tyler leans into Roman’s touch, and they both go inside the building. Seth wouldn’t be surprised if he found out that Roman’s paying his rent. This building looks expensive as fuck. It screams wealth.

Maybe Roman is Tyler’s sugar daddy. Seth wouldn’t be surprised, he is a billionaire after all. Maybe he’s sugar daddy to every member in his club, and he puts them in expensive buildings and crap like that. Maybe Seth should join his club too. He wouldn’t mind having a hot Samoan sugar daddy. They can all share him because it looks like Roman’s a man in high demand. There’s only one of him though, while the demand is so high. This is Economics all over again. Seth’s last thought takes him back to high school and he laughs despite himself.

“Seth Rollins? What are you doing late at night on your own?”

That voice sounds confused. Seth laughs because it sounds strange to hear Roman sound confused but his chuckles die down when he looks at Roman...who looks displeased for some reason. He has his hands in his pockets, glowering at Seth. _Oh boy._ This man is earth’s greatest creation. Seth swallows loudly and shrugs.

“Use you words, Seth Rollins!”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Seth staggers towards him, poking his chest. “I am not your submissive.”

One of Roman’s eyebrows lift and Seth’s eyes light up like a child’s because Roman looks so _badass._ “Stahp,” he strokes Roman’s cheek, frowning as the man shies away from his touch. Or maybe Roman just shuns it, he doesn’t look like the shy type after all. “How do you do that thing with your eyebrow? I can’t even do it with two. Emilia Clarke can even play with them. Not fair!”

Roman looks taken aback this time. He sighs. “Are you drunk, Seth Rollins?”

“Yup, I think so.” Seth chuckles, burping in Roman’s face. The man doesn’t even blink. “I just burped in your face.”

“I’ve realized that,” Roman sounds impatient now. His gaze darkens, narrowing in on Seth with his jaw ticking. He looks furious again. _Oh, oh._ “You’re drunk, wandering the streets aimlessly at midnight. What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh, the usual...life.”

“Are you always this...difficult?”

The words chase away Seth’s hazy buzz in a second. And it’s not even the tone of Roman’s voice, no it’s perfectly calm, completely nonjudgmental. But his _words_ that tick Seth off. He’s not some miscreant child who requires too much effort. And as far as Seth remembers, he hadn’t even asked Roman to talk to him, to give him the attention. So just who the hell does Roman think he is acting like his father?

“Let me tell you something, mister—” Seth wags his finger at Roman, vision blurring, he feels like crying and he’s trying to focus on his drunkenness rather than his emotions, but they get the best of him. “You’re not the boss of me. I’ll fucking tell you again, I am not your submissive. You’re not going to tell me jump and have me ask how high. I’m not one of your twinks, ya hear? I’m a sensible human being, capable of making sound decisions. I was fucking valedictorian in my high-school. Me. The youngest ever. At sixteen. I am very intelligent—and will not allow myself to be pushed around like some naïve child. You are not my father! If you can’t stand me then walk away. I don’t give a fuck! I don’t even know you. So fuck you and your questions and unwanted attention. I certainly never asked for it.”

Roman studies him. Blankly. Completely inscrutable. His brown and grey eyes giving nothing away. Seth stares right back, defiantly, chest heaving like it hurts to breathe. His body is trembling with anger, waiting on the gorgeous bastard to say something, anything.

“Are you done?” Roman is still perfectly calm, he holds his right hand out. It looks so big, so strong—capable. “How about some coffee before I take you home?”

What?

Seth blinks rapidly. This isn’t what he was expecting. “Just like that?”

“I’m a gentleman, Mr. Rollins. Surely you don’t expect me to leave you here when you’re clearly...unwell. I’m surprised that no one’s offered you a lift to ensure you arrive home safely.”

“I wouldn’t have agreed—stranger danger and shit like that.”

“Very good,” Roman hums in approval, his eyes light up and he nods once, making Seth highly uncomfortable in his nether regions. _What the fuck? Why...?_ “Now come, you look like you could use a drink.”

Seth complies, reluctantly, accepting Roman’s hand. It swallows his smaller one whole, and Roman runs his thumb over Seth’s knuckles gently, a caress. Seth refuses to be affected but his breath hitches, electric charge coursing throughout his body, warming everything in it’s path. He clears his throat, beholding Roman who is already moving them to the Rolls Royce. The passenger door opens, he gets inside, Roman buckling his seatbelt for him. It should piss him off, because he’s not a child. Roman’s unwavering stare stops him in his tracks. _It’s so dangerous._ Again that gaze that makes Seth feel like he’s the only human in the world. How does he do this?

“Any good coffee shops you know about here?” Roman asks him as he starts to drive.

“A really good diner, it’s an hour away though.”

“Time’s not an issue, at least for me. I know tomorrow’s the weekend. Will you be having an early morning?”

Seth shakes his head.

“To the diner we go then.”

Seth nods this time, he can’t seem to find his voice. Roman hasn’t turned the radio on and it’s quite disappointing to be honest. For as loud and confident that Seth tries to appear, sometimes, he never knows what to say to another person, especially someone that he’s not used to. With Roman it’s worse because he has a freaking crush on the man and doesn’t want to say anything that would make him appear dumb. He’s done that enough with that previous rant of his. Ugh, what to do?

He takes out his phone, he has that fan fiction app on his phone. He’ll pass the time by reading. Which story? Which fandom? _MCU._ Okay, SamSteve it is. He’s five chapters in when Roman’s calm voice rings out. “What are you so busy with on your phone?”

A second’s beat. Small shrug. “Reading.”

“Nice.” They’ve stopped at a red light. Seth shifts once in his seat, discouraging his dick from reacting. It’s strange, he’s noticing how Roman’s innocent compliments arouse erotic sensations from his body. He just doesn’t know why...it’s unsettling. “I try to read as much as possible too. A few SciFi reads when I have the time. What are you reading?”

“Um...” Seth hesitates, this is the scene where Cap America folds Sam in half and chokes him with the shield, while fucking him so hard the other man ends up forgiving him for... “Othello!”

“Oh,” a pleased hum from Roman, it’s slowly becoming one of Seth’s favorite sounds. “I remember we read it in my last year of high school in Samoa. For our assignment, we had to write an essay discussing the role that race plays in Shakespeare’s portrayal of Othello. I look back and realize that I would’ve been able to write that essay had I put in the effort but of course my stupid eighteen year old self decided that finding one on the internet would be better. I got a zero and a whooping when my parents found out. One of the dumbest mistakes I’ve ever made.”

“That doesn’t sound like you at all,” Seth laughs until it hurts, tears brimming in his eyes. “An upstanding, good guy like yourself? If anything, I’d think you were a teacher’s pet in high school, always doing the right thing.”

Roman peers at him, damn his smirk...Seth’s grin dies out, he’s being killed slowly by that damned smirk! Roman shakes his head, “Looks can be deceiving, Seth. With me, in high school, I was probably the biggest troublemaker. I outgrew my childish ways when I came here and was all alone. But I was the furthest thing from a teacher’s pet, trust me.”

“How old were you when you came here?”

“Twenty-one. My cousins and I, it was just the three of us trying to make it.”

“And you did. A thirty-one year old billionaire. That’s very impressive.”

“Consistency’s the name of the game, Seth Rollins.”

A little laugh, unbidden. Roman looks at him weirdly, so Seth figures he better explain. “A few weeks ago, I met these kids at the school library. They were talking about you...”

The trip to the diner feels like it took five minutes, and Seth knows why. He’s just spent about forty-five minutes having a flowing conversation with a gorgeous BDSM kinkster. They don’t really get into the deep details about themselves, just academics and favorite movies and sports. Seth is distressed to find out that the first football team Roman learned about and fell in love with when he came to America are the fucking Green Bay Packers because really? His team’s biggest rivals. It’s even worse when he finds out that Roman doesn’t even have one specific team that he supports. To him, whoever wins wins, and he doesn’t care. It’s a boring way to live your life he tells a chuckling Roman.  

“Oh, you know this song?” he asks Roman who is humming to System of a Down’s ‘Chop Suey!’. They’ve been at the mostly empty diner for an hour now. To Seth, it feels like they’ve been here for a few minutes. Part of him doesn’t even want this night to end.

“Yes,” Roman is looking at him, different colored eyes not even blinking. They are so attractive. “From their most recognized album, also arguably their most controversial and recognizable song. I’ve been a fan of theirs since that song.”

“Wow...I didn’t think you listened to metal.”

“Why? I don’t fit the stereotype.”

“Well, yes.” Seth admits, taking a sip of his coffee. “You did choose a classical piece that night.”

“I choose whatever fits the mood, Seth. There are a lot of factors that I consider before choosing a song for a specific scene. I’ve had scenes to different genres. RnB, hip hop, songs that I guess would be considered religious. Christian music is it?”

Seth nearly spits his coffee. Roman hands him a napkin with a little disapproving scowl. Jeez, he’s sensitive about getting dirty, isn’t he? “Whaaat? No!” still chuckles from Seth, they’re too amused.

The corner of Roman’s lips quirk up. “I said what I said.”

“You’re very strange,” Seth reveals, grinning foolishly while Roman’s eyebrow raises. Okay, he better elaborate. “Soft spoken, super calm and kind. I thought Doms were supposed to be really intense and Christian Grey-like. Have you watched the movie? I just read the books. Anyway, Randy, he kinda reminds me of Christian Grey. When he was doing that fire thing on Xavier, it was like magic. But you...do you even get angry? I want to push your limits.”

Roman laughs, and Seth whimpers as the sounds shoot straight to his belly, causing it to tighten deliciously. “You can try, Seth, but no one pushes my limits like myself. And no, I don’t know who Christian Grey. I have not watched the movie nor read the books. If it’s a recommendation you’re making, I’ll gladly buy the books.”

“Oh you should definitely read them, hot stuff.” Seth winks, trying to create the picture of Roman reading Fifty Shades in his head. Most likely, the man in front of him won’t even bat an eyelid. He looks like a man perturbed by a few things which is greatly annoying.  

“It’s past midnight, I should take you home.”

“Or even better, bed. Ha!”

“Is that so?” Roman looks taken aback, but Seth can hear a smidgen of amusement in his voice.

“Yup! I’m making the rules tonight, Daddy-o.”

Roman licks his lips, and Seth’s cock hardens almost immediately. Roman says nothing but perhaps he need not to. There is an intensity in his silver-brown eyes that burns Seth alive, making him a little dizzy. _Jesus fucking Christ._ The look in his eyes becomes darker—in his eyes appears a mix of hunger and desire of such intensity that Seth is both excited and frightened. He takes a deep shuddering breath as he accepts Roman’s hand.

Polite goodbyes, they walk out of the diner. A confident touch beneath his back—Seth goes on autopilot until they reach the Rolls Royce. The car is no longer spacious like he remembers. Every nerve ending in his body roars to life. He’s too sensitive, feeling too much—the clammy moisture breaking out on his forehead, his drying saliva and sound, Roman’s deep steady breaths are like a gentle breeze.

Thank fuck he’s not drunk anymore. Seth would’ve missed the opportunity of a lifetime otherwise. He’ll get to say that he also had sex with god’s best creation (ironic coming from an atheist) but this man has a mysterious way about him, a beauty so undecipherable that Seth has no choice but to think that maybe he was carved by some god.

Just this once Seth hopes Bayley has gone home with Sasha or is asleep. There are chances that she’s probably home though, waiting to yell his head off, despite the message he sent her that he’s safe and met someone who’ll take him home. Yeah, she’s home most likely, waiting to chew his head off as she gives him the ‘the world is a dangerous place, why leave with strangers?’ speech. He’ll be embarrassed if that happens, especially in front of Roman. Bayley likes to baby him too much sometimes.

The car comes to a halt and Seth looks out the window. Oh shit, they’re at his flat! Roman exits the car faster than Seth can process. Accepting his hand, Seth follows silently behind him as they enter. Roman asks him what floor he stays on. It’s the fourth floor. They take the lift. Delicious tension is sparked in the confining space, and he kisses Roman’s cheek before resting his head on his shoulder.

“We may have to deal with someone who thinks she’s my mother before we get to fucking like bunnies.” He advises Roman as he opens the door.

“You have such an untrained mouth,” Roman chuckles.

Seth doesn’t get the chance to respond, Bayley’s launched into he kitchen. “Seth Tyler Rollins! You’re in trouble, young man.”

_Oh, oh._

“Hi, cupcake. Bye, cupcake!” Seth drags Roman to his room and shuts the door. He sags against it briefly, ignoring Roman’s confused face, and then steps forward. “Alright, let’s do this. Do you prefer me to shower first? I mean I did shower a few hours ago but I can still get fresh and clean for you.”

“Take off your clothes.”

Oh...bossy.

Seth nods, “We’ll have to start slow though. I’ve seen your dick and I don’t want to end up needing urgent medical assistance. You’re the biggest I’ve ever seen—and I’ve been around.”

“Talk with your mouth, not your hands.”

“You know I see why you chose to be a Dominant. You’re very bossy. And if I weren’t trying to get inside your pants so badly, I’d have told you off long ago.”

Roman’s response is a laugh that risks Seth suffering a heart attack. And this time Seth’s really going to experience heart failure, especially when Roman gets into his space, leans down to kiss his forehead and then gently guides him to the bed. He’s not naked yet but maybe he’s planning to sexually torture Seth like Humberto said he normally does.

“Get on the bed, beneath the covers.”

Seth complies. “What kinky thing are you coming with, Mr. Dominant?” he giggles, back against the headboard.

“You’ll see.” Roman smirks, and Seth’s cock jumps in anticipation. Long fingers get to work, and Seth falls into a trance, watching those strong large hands undo their owner’s shirt buttons—one by one. Seth’s mouth parts open to accommodate more oxygen as cotton white falls off Roman’s shoulders, revealing his beautiful tan chest. He’s always so methodical, so precise and it’s sexy as hell. He opens Seth’s closet, pulls out a hanger, and then neatly the shirt is hung and hooked onto the doorknob.

“How do you want me?” Seth asks, and he may sound desperate and impatient but fuck he doesn’t care. He’s been wanting since he met Roman. Roman who’s almost always his first thought in the morning, and the last thing on his mind when he goes to sleep. And right now, with Roman right here, the desire for him is almost like a burden on Seth’s soul. He wants to feel Roman deep inside him. He’s a man desperate for a Greek god’s touch.

“Lay back. Good.” Another instruction, Seth obeys. Roman comes to join him, sitting beside him. “Now close your eyes.”

“What about—”

“You were drinking, Seth. Surely you weren’t expecting me to take advantage of you. I am not like that.” Roman explains calmly. “If anything, you deserve punishment for touching alcohol when you’re underage.”

“Punish me then, Daddy.” Seth’s hand trails to the front of Roman’s slacks. Jesus, this man is owner to some fucking heavy machinery. He’s not even hard but _damn..._ “I’m really not drunk anymore so we can fuck.”

“I’ve said what I said, Seth. The answer is no.” it’s so stern now, and Seth shivers deliciously at the authority in that voice. He’s leaking, wanting just one chance at least. Roman’s lips on his forehead again. “Close your eyes, angel.”

Seth dies and resurrects in a matter of seconds. _Angel? Angel..._ he loves it. He wants Roman to keep talking dirty to him. Okay, maybe he’s not completely sober but still… “Come on, Ro—”

“Do as you’re told, little fox.” Gentle, coaxing. Seth doesn’t want to but that voice is doing things to him, weird nonsexual things. It’s...soothing, wanting to send him to a place that’s warm and safe. A foreign feeling. He tries to fight it but Roman’s mumbling something softly, quietly. “Disappear here.” He swears he hears Roman says the words. A final, gentle whisper.

Seth's dusty house welcomes clean fresh air that night. And he sleeps like a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?


End file.
